


Dragon Heart

by merlinfrostE



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bilbo Baggins, Bifur Is a Sweetheart, But not the Tooks, Don't mess with Bilbo's dragon, Dragon Language, Dragon Rider Bilbo, Dragon law, Dragons, Fili and Kili are good bros, Golden Trio, Mean hobbits, Protective Dwarves, Somewhat helpful Gandalf, They adopt Bilbo as a little brother, Thorin is a Softie, Tooks are awesome, Young Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2019-10-23 21:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17691647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merlinfrostE/pseuds/merlinfrostE
Summary: They meet in the melting snow of spring, both freshly orphaned and longing for a family that was cruelly taken from them. They grow together over the next 14 years, one mind, one heart in two bodies. Together they race the wind, rule the sky and live for freedom. They are happy, but not content with their lives. And then a wizard appears with thirteen dwarves and an offer for an adventure.Bilbo Baggins in not your average Hobbit. He hunts his own game in the woods with a bow and arrow. He doesn't care for growing a flowering garden and still enjoys going hunting for elves in the forest. He is also bonded with a dragon that he rides every day and calls his kin. With Salvius by his side, he is happy and complete in the sense of himself, but when it comes to his life and how he lives it he finds himself lacking.Unwanted by most of his kin with a deep desire to soar through the skies, Bilbo finds himself drawn to the band of dwarves and their quest to reclaim their homeland. But the thought of facing a full grown dragon has both himself and Salvius questioning on whether they are ready to face their destiny and show the world just what dragons are made of.





	1. Salvius

**Author's Note:**

> I am messing completely with canon and timelines here so please bare in mind. In this, Bilbo loses both his parents to the Fell Winter when he is only twenty years old and will only be thirty four when he goes on the quest. I have also created my own language for the dragons and will put notes at the end of each chapter on what each word means.

It was the worst winter the Shire had ever seen with countless families shattered and broken from having loved ones lost to either the wolves, cold or starvation. But the snows were finally starting to melt away, the wolves retreating back into the woods and back across the Brandywine river that was once again flowing. Hope, for many, was once again surfacing with the coming of Spring. But for one young tween, all hope seemed to have left them.

Bilbo Baggins, only son to Bungo and Belladonna, only twenty years of age was an orphan having lost both his parents to the harshness of what folks were calling the Fell Winter. His mother had been lost first to the wolves, her dying screams still haunting Bilbo’s dreams and waking moments. She had gone to fetch some more firewood, hoping to bring warmth for an ice cold Bungo who was quickly succumbing to the biting chill. She never made it home. Just a week later, Bungo breathed his last breath leaving his son completely an utterly alone.

The young Hobbit had run for the forest the moment the snows started to melt, the moment his horrible relatives arrived to claim Bag End for themselves now that his parents were gone. Those awful Sackville-Baggins’ hadn’t even waited till Bungo and Belladonna were in the ground before descending, hissing about how he was too young to inherit Bag End, that they didn’t want him and only wished for Bag End and its contents to be properly looked after by a respectful family. Bilbo had protested, stating that it was his right to keep Bag End, that he was perfectly respectable. The Sackville-Baggins’ had responded with a clipped “ _You're too Took to be completely respectfu_ l” and left it at that. It was after that comment that Bilbo had run, heart hurting and soul calling out for comfort, for a family that wasn’t around anymore.

The slush that was what remained of the snow bit at his feet, splashing up along his pants and causing a right mess not that Bilbo cared. He was, after all, too Took to be respectful so why should he care about what he looked like. The Hobbit was suddenly filled with the mad desire to just smear dirt and mud all over himself, to rip and scuff his clothing just to spite his horrible relatives. The thought quickly left his mind when his foot caught on a hidden tree root, sending the poor tween hurtling to the cold wet ground.

Bilbo sat there in a daze for a moment, hands and chin stinging terribly from the grazes they had just sustained in the little fall. His whole front was soaked through, quickly chilling him to the bond and he could feel the mud starting to cake and harden on his face and hands. In that moment, sitting on the cold wet ground knowing his mother and father would be waiting back at home for him to patch up his small wounds, Bilbo felt something deep inside of him shatter. With a broken sob, the hobbit curled in on himself, chest tight with weeks of pent up grief, guilt, anger and sorrow. Feelings of loss, fear and confused anger swirled about his head, making his thoughts fuzzy and hard to decipher. His thoughts were so muddled, he almost didn’t hear it.

Bilbo ceased his crying as a distant sound reached his pointed ears. Carried on the wind, sounding weak and frightened, came a cry. The sound, however faint it was, made something inside Bilbo come alive, like a small flame suddenly sparking to life and reaching out in search of another flame. The hobbit sat there for only a moment longer before the cry came again sending the tween scrambling to his feet and taking off after the sound. Bilbo ran almost blindly through the trees, not paying attention to where he was going and why he was going the way he was, only knowing that something inside him was urging him to find the source of the sound, to find it and protect it. The closer he got, the louder the cries became, the more the feeling grew inside him. With a cry of his own, Bilbo burst into a small clearing where the snow was still thick upon the ground, where the trees stood still and bare, long spindly branches reaching out like hands to snag and ensnare unsuspecting victims. And it was within this clearing that Bilbo would meet the one being in all of Middle-Earth that would understand him, would know his own thoughts better than himself, would protect him from all harm and would change his life for the better.

Bilbo Baggins stared at the being sitting in the middle of the clearing before him, eyes wide with wonder and awe. The dark navy blue scales almost appeared black as they gleamed in the sunlight bouncing off the white snow. The forest green eyes that mirrored his own shone with intelligence while the gossamer wings folded neatly along the creatures back. Twin horns adorned the small elegant head while a serpentine neck held the head afloat. Four legs sat underneath the body, pushing it up so that it stood only as tall as Bilbo’s knee. Finally, a long whip-like tail decorated with a flat frill like end moved slowly along the top of the snow, barely disturbing the flakes.

The little dragon gazed at Bilbo with wide green eyes, assessing him just as the Hobbit was assessing it. The little lizard was tiny, probably only a few months old going by its size and it was dreadfully skinny showing that winter had not been kind to it either. The sight filled Bilbo with both pity and sympathy, so much so he felt no fear as he walked towards the dragon, falling to his knees before it. The little one back away a few steps, hissing in warning and back arching but Bilbo wasn’t frightened, in fact, he smiled at the sight, tears stinging at his eyes once more.

“And where’s your family?” He whispered, watching as the dragon calmed and tilted its head up at him, a soft trill escaping its mouth. “Are you an orphan too?”

The dragon seemed to almost give a mournful whine, head bowing and tail curling in a way that reminded Bilbo of himself not too long ago, sitting in the slush of melting snow and crying for his parents. He sighed sadly, his own head bowing as his heart ached once again for what he had lost. “My parents are gone too.”

A soft chirp, head coming up to look at him once more with eyes that spoke of understanding. Bilbo gave a wet chuckle, hand reaching out towards the little creature before him. The dragon grumbled softly, pulling away ever so slightly and eyeing him with suspicion. But Bilbo only smiled, letting his hand hang there as an offering. With cautious movements, the dragon leaned forward, sniffing at the hand and chittering quietly to itself. Then, with only a moment longer of hesitation, it pushed its tiny head into the Hobbits hand, rubbing itself into the warmth of the soft skin and closing its eyes in bliss. Bilbo giggled, feeling something that had been wound up tightly inside him relax as something passed between him and the little being before him. A connection had been made, one deeper than friendship and it filled him with hope and excitement.

“You're not alone any more little one. I look after you, we’ll look after each other.” Bilbo vowed, watching as the dragon looked up at him and seemed to roar its agreement even though the roar was tiny in comparison to what it would one day be. With gentle caring hands, Bilbo lifted the dragon into his arms, chuckling when the little lizard burrowed into his coat, curling up against his heart with a contented purr. “Your safe now, and safe you’ll remain. _Salvius_ , safe.”

The newly named Salvius gave another low purr, his warm scales providing comfort to the Hobbit holding him. And safe the Hobbit would remain as well the little dragon silently vowed for he would keep him safe, show him the way of the dragons and teach him the wonders of the sky. The Hobbit was his now and he was the Hobbits. They were each other's hearts and souls and in time the Hobbit would come to understand this for in giving him a name, he had pledged himself to Salvius and in turn, Salvius had pledged himself to the Hobbit. Their’s would be a bond none could break. They would grow together, live together, learn together, and when the time came they would die together. This Salvius promised with all his being.


	2. First flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In dreams, he is soaring over the clouds with the wind singing in his ear. In dreams, he is free and unchallenged, able to go where he pleases and do as he wishes. The ground is but a memory when he sleeps while the sky is a long lost friend welcoming him home. It is familiar in a way that it shouldn’t be but is and he loves every second of it. It’s why, when he wakes, he is often filled with a sense of longing and loss.

In dreams, he is soaring over the clouds with the wind singing in his ear. In dreams, he is free and unchallenged, able to go where he pleases and do as he wishes. The ground is but a memory when he sleeps while the sky is a long lost friend welcoming him home. It is familiar in a way that it shouldn’t be but is and he loves every second of it. It’s why, when he wakes, he is often filled with a sense of longing and loss. Today, however, Bilbo is only filled with a small sense of annoyance as a large scaly head pushes into him roughly.

“Wake up my heart. The day is starting without us while you dream.” Peeking one eye open Bilbo huffed at the large dragon standing over him. In the last six years, Salvius had grown considerably from the small kitten-sized hatchling he’d been to the now horse sized dragon he was. His scales gleamed like cut jewels and his wings are large and powerful, resting gently along his sides. Bilbo smiled at the memory of teaching a year old Salvius how to fly, running with the dragon in his arms and throwing him into the air with encouraging shouts. That had been the first day Bilbo longed to sore with his companion through the skies and had also been the first-day Salvius began to talk.

“Are you awake?” Green eyes gleamed with amusement as Bilbo huffed grouchily, throwing the covers from his body and sitting up with a glare.

“I am now that a pushy lizard has decided to interrupt my sleep.” The Hobbit growled to which Salvius gave a throaty laugh, his tail coming up to curl around Bilbo in a comforting manner.

“My dear heart, you will appreciate my wake up call once you see what I’ve planned.” He smiled before leaving the room, his great body only just fitting through the doorway. Bilbo watched him go, mind running through all possibilities as to what his dear friend had cooked up. With a shrug, the Hobbit practically rolled out of the bed, limps stretching out in bliss as he wandered into the tiny kitchen to get something to eat.

Bilbo looked around himself, mind once again wandering back to the days spent in Bag End with his parents. A part of him longed for those days but only because of the loss of his parents, he no longer mourned for the loss of Bag End or Hobbiton. It wasn’t that much of a surprise to find himself evicted and chased out of Hobbiton when the other Hobbits had laid eyes on Salvius, proclaiming him a dangerous beast that had no place among them. Bilbo had fled, carrying only his father’s favourite old map of Middle-Earth and his mother’s dagger, Salvius draped over his shoulders and ran all the way to Tuckborough and to the only family that would have him. His Took cousins, Aunts and Uncles had welcomed him with open arms, viewing Salvius with wonder instead of fear.

His grandfather, Gerontius Took, along with his Uncle Isengar Took had helped him build the little Smial he called home that sat on the outskirts of Tuckborough closest to the woods. His Uncle Isengrim had been the one to teach Bilbo who to hunt using a bow and arrow while his Aunt Donnamira taught him to cook. His Aunt Mirabella showed him how to sew his own clothes and all his cousins included him in their antics and mischief-making. All in all, the Tooks had truly taken him in yet Bilbo still felt distant from them.

None of them understood the call of the wide open sky, none felt the pull of the bright hot flames, none understood the comfort that warm hard scales gave him. It had taken Bilbo only a year to understand that a much deeper bond than friendship had formed between himself and Salvius. Once the dragon was able to speak for himself he had explained in great detail just what their bond meant and entitled.

_“You are my heart and soul and I am yours. You are me and I am you. We share one mind, one heart, one soul yet two bodies. I am yours and you are mine. You are a dragon heart, you feel the pull of the sky and my fire. You will live to see civilizations rise and fall for we are one meaning you now share my life. We will grow and breath together and when the time comes we shall die together and move onto the next life beyond this one together.”_

The words had filled Bilbo with both fear and excitement. Fear for all those he would leave behind now that his life wasn’t even a third over yet, it was only just beginning. But there was excitement for Salvius would be by his side throughout it all. Now, years later Bilbo had accepted it all and was just looking forward to what each new day would bring.

Quickly cooking up a small breakfast for himself, Bilbo hurried outside where Salvius was finishing his own meal of a large stag they had killed the previous day. That was another thing Bilbo had found himself changing attitudes towards, hunting. Before he could never imagine himself killing another living creature but now he relished in the thrill of the hunt. Salvius approved of the feeling, stating that he was becoming a true dragon.

“Right you over-grown lizard, what have you got planned for me today?” Bilbo called, striding confidently up to the large animal and resting a gentle hand on Salvius’ flank. The navy blue scales flexed and bunched under his hand, speaking of power and strength beneath. It filled Bilbo with pride at how strong his heart and soul had grown. Salvius, in turn, rumbled approvingly, his eyes gleaming with joy and excitement. With the grace of a creature not nearly as large as himself, he swung his tail around to reveal a leather saddle that had Bilbo’s eyes widening in shock.

“I had one of your soft-skinned kin make it. I think its about time we teach you how to fly.” Salvius declared. Bilbo stared for a good long moment before a manic smile split his face, body trembling with anticipation. This, this is what he’d been dreaming of for the past six years, to finally experience the sensation of flying, to finally be able to reach out and touch the clouds. For a long time, it had always just been a dream for Salvius was too small to carry him but now, now the dragon deemed both of them ready to take on the sky together at last. With shaking hands Bilbo rushed to fasten the saddle to Salvius’ back, strapping it under his belly and around the base of his neck. The saddle had two footholds for his feet, a harness to loop around his waist to keep him from slipping off mid-flight as well as a leather ring for him to hold onto as well. It was perfect in every single way.

“Are you ready my _Doktheirri_?” Salvius asked, muscles bunched and ready to spring into action at a moments notice. Bilbo sat in the saddle, heart in his mouth and a wild look to his eyes as he smiled at his companion.

“I am my _Vel-ith_.” Bilbo had barely finished his sentence before Salvius gave a loud triumphant roar, rearing back on his hind legs before breaking into a run. Bilbo hunched down against the dragon’s back, his smile threatening to break his face as Salvius’ wings stretched out and began to beat rhythmically, sending powerful gusts of wind in all directions. With five powerful strokes of his wings, Salvius lifted into the air, his cry of joy resonating inside Bilbo’s own chest. And soon they were climbing steadily into the sky leaving the ground behind. Bilbo felt his breath catch in his throat as a feeling of weightlessness and freedom overtook his soul, escaping him in a giddy laugh.

Salvius gazed at his Hobbit from the corner of his eye, lips pulling back to reveal teeth in a dragon version of a smile. Tucking his legs close to his body he shifted ever so slightly to the left, wings curving so that he banked to the left. He was pleased when he felt the way Bilbo shifted his own weight, leaning into the move instinctually.

“Feel how the _Sweth_ moves around us my heart, feel the _Rakarethson_ shinning down on your body. Let it fill your _Ith a_ nd guide you.” Salvius called, speaking with words from the dragon tongue that he had meticulously taught his dear heart over the years they had been together. And Bilbo did as instructed, feeling how the _air_ moved around them and feeling the _sun_ shining down on their bodies, letting the feelings fill his _soul_ and speak to his inner dragon.

With a delighted whoop, Bilbo let go of the harness, thrusting his arms out to the side to just feel the air slip between his fingers. Salvius screamed his own happiness, sway back and forth through the air as he finally was able to teach his heart and soul how to fly just as he had taught him. With a powerful stroke of his wings, Salvius picked up speed, weaving between the clouds at high speed to teach Bilbo how to lean into the movements and to learn his own body language when flying.  They would bank sharply to the right, spin upside down, free fall for minutes at a time before sharply pulling up. Throughout it all, Bilbo never once felt fear. To him, he felt more at home than he had ever felt since his parents passing.

Throwing his head back, Bilbo gave a loud screaming cry reminiscent of a dragons call, tears stinging his eyes as his heart soared. They spent the whole day flying through the skies above the Shire, basking in the freedom it brought them both. By the time the sun began to fall behind the horizon both were breathing heavily and ready for a long nights rest. But both were lighter than they had ever been, Bilbo smiling non-stop while Salvius rumbled happily. Together, they clambered into Bilbo’s smial, seating themselves by the fire and feeding on a small dinner. Both would gorge themselves at breakfast tomorrow before going out for another day of flying. After all, Salvius still had much to teach Bilbo about the ways of the sky and the secret language of the air currents.

“You’ve finally earned your wings my heart.” Salvius sighed happily, eyes closed in bliss as Bilbo ran his hand down the length of his neck, tracing the frill that started just behind his skull and cut off at the base of his neck.

“I may have flown for the first time but that wasn’t earning my wings,” Bilbo muttered, smiling when Salvius gave him a curious look. “No, I have a better idea in mind in regards to my wings.”

“Oh? Well, this shall prove most enjoyable for the both of us then.” Salvius gave his toothy dragon smile and Bilbo felt his chest lighten. Yes, this would prove to be quiet the experience.

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

(3 years later)

The sky was clear and calm, the few clouds that were to be seen floated slowly and peacefully along with gentle breeze. Far below, the Shire stood with its inhabitants going about their every day of sowing fields, going to tea with friends and family, selling their goods in the market and preparing one of their seven meals for the day. For all of them, there was nothing out of the ordinary to be had and none of them would dream of doing something out of the ordinary. None of them cared to turn their gaze skyward, to witness the spectacle that was about to take place for high above them a navy blue figure streaked on by at high speed.

The dragon had grown only a little in the last three years, now the size of a small carriage. His powerful wings carried him quickly and efficiently through the air, the little figure sitting upon his back bending and leaning into every stroke they took. Said figure was covered in a sort of battle suit made of leather and covered in sheded navy blue scales. On their head was a helmet that had a thin visor for the figure to be able to see through. Peeking out from under the helmet were golden curls while bright green eyes gleamed from under the helmet.

“We ready to try this one last time?” Bilbo called, smirking when Salvius growled in agreement, wings stretching out to sit parallel with his body, stabilising his flight into a calm straight line. Bilbo sat up straight, unhooking himself from the harness while looking down over Salvius’ side at the ground far below. The very sight would normally inspire fear in most hearts. In his, it only ignited anticipation. “Right, here we go.”

Moving elegantly, Bilbo tilted sideways, slipping off the saddle and going into free fall, body straight and head pointed right at the ground below. Above him, he heard Salvius give a guttural cry followed by the loud beating sounds of his wings moving through the air. Within seconds, the navy blue dragon was falling alongside him, wings curled close to his body and eyes bright with elation. Bilbo laughed out loud, enjoying the roar of the wind in his ears. And as the ground grew ever closer his excitement grew as well, smiling wildly underneath his helmet.

A gentle exhale of air beside him was all that needed to be said for Bilbo to understand what was to come next. Thrusting his hands through two little loops by his hips Bilbo snapped his arms outward, pulling leather membrane like pieces of cloth with him. The air caught underneath them, sending Bilbo rocketing back up into the air as he levelled out, putting his stomach parallel to the ground as he began to glide through the air. Manic laughter burst from his mouth while Salvius roared behind him, gliding along as well.

“We did it! We finally did it!” Bilbo yelled excitedly, looking back at his friend and brother in all but blood who was gazing at him in pride.

“And now you’ve earned your wings!” Salvius declared loudly, roaring for all the world to hear his joy at his heart finally flying on his own. “ _Doktheirri!_ ”

Bilbo gave a cry of his own at the name, joy and elation filling his being as Salvius flew beneath him, his body connecting with warm navy scales as they once more flew through the skies as one being. Once Bilbo was safely strapped upon his back, Salvius began to spiral through the clouds, celebrating their victory over the sky.

“We just need to work on your fire now and then you’ll be a true dragon.” Salvius crowed happily, Bilbo laughing along with him. A true dragon, for that, is what he was. It didn’t matter that he’d been born to Hobbit parents, didn’t matter that his body was that of a Hobbit. His heart and soul was that of a dragon making him one as well and that’s all Bilbo could ever ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon language  
> Doktheirri = Dragon heart  
> Vel-ith = My soul  
> Sweth = Air  
> Rakarethson = Fire of fires (sun)  
> Ith = Soul


	3. An Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet day is interrupted by the arrival of a wizard with the offer of a life time. How could Bilbo just say no?

(5 years later)

It was a quiet day for once. Bilbo was left to his own devices as Salvius flew out to hunt for their dinner and all his Took relatives were busy so wouldn’t be coming in for a visit. For once, Bilbo was free to sleep in, have a slow breakfast and a nice peaceful smoke out on his front doorstep without an overgrown lizard to annoy him. So it was with great pleasure that he took out his pipe and just relaxed on the soft grass, eyes closed and simply enjoying the calm morning. It was because of this that it was all the more off-putting to have smoke blown back into his face while a tall shadow fell over him. For a brief moment, Bilbo thought Salvius had returned and was once again being his annoying self. However, when he opened his eyes he was greeted not by a carriage sized dragon but by a very tall grey wizard.

“Gandalf!” Bilbo exclaimed in surprise having not expected to see the Wizard at all really. The last time he’d shown himself to the young Hobbit had been shortly after his parent's died and when Salvius had been the size of a kitten.

“My dear Bilbo, it is good to see you looking well.” Gandalf declared happily, his smile stretching wide underneath his beard.

“I must say, I wasn’t expecting to see you! Though, I suppose one never expects to see you as you never send a forward warning.” Bilbo snarked playfully, eyes shining with merriment as the tall man before him gave a few awkward coughs.

“Yes, well, a wizards work is never done and is always moving them from one place to another. We haven’t the time to warn those of our comings and goings. And it seems much more entertaining to surprise your old friends.” Here the wizard winked and Bilbo couldn’t help but to laugh. He had missed the old man greatly in the last fourteen years, had missed the stories he would tell of faraway lands and the stories of adventures he’d had with his mother. The thought of his mother, the fierce and outspoken Belladonna sent a stab of pain through his heart before it lessened into merely a dull ache.

“What brings you out this way then? I doubt it was merely for a visit.” Bilbo said instead, eyeing his friend suspiciously. One could never be too careful when dealing with a wizard after all. And it seemed to be quiet the sensible statement for Gandalf drew himself to his full height, gazing down at Bilbo appraisingly.

“I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure.” The words ring in the Hobbit’s ears, lighting up something deep inside his heart. Adventures, his mother had been on so many and had told of him all of them. When he’d been a little faunt he’d dreamed of adventure. Now, a year past his majority, it wasn’t so much the adventure that called. Instead, the part of him the longed-for wide open skies and breathed in fire cried out for lands anew, for the chance to see more of the world that was his to traverse.

“And what kind of adventure are we talking about here?” Bilbo asked. Gandalf could only smile down proudly at him, chest puffing out in happiness.

“One that will be life changing I assure you.” The wizard stated before moving quickly to the green door of the smial, craving a funny little rune into it. Bilbo watched, bemused as his friend bustled about. “It will be very good for you and most amusing for me!”

“And how many should I expect later?” Bilbo questioned with a raised eyebrow, having remembered from his mother’s stories Gandalf’s tendency to bring along guests.

“Oh, just a few dwarves.” The man shrugged and Bilbo felt his smile fade while his stomach dropped.

“Dwarves?” His mouth was dry and voice tight with fright causing Gandalf to pause and look at him. “Dwarves that have no love for dragons and would sooner kill them than wait for explanations?”

A gentle hand settled on Bilbo’s shoulder, grounding him and keeping him from dissolving straight into a full blown panic attack. “You have my word as a wizard that Salvius will come to no harm, my dear friend. Trust me on this.”

And as much as Bilbo wanted to yell and scream at the wizard, to tell him that no matter what he said these dwarves would sooner kill Salvius than look at him, he couldn’t help but trust Gandalf. The grey pilgrim had yet to lead him astray so for now Bilbo would reserve judgement and see just where this encounter would lead him. “For now, I’ll trust you. But if they so much as fling a butter knife at Salvius I will not stop him from biting their heads off.” Bilbo warned to which Gandalf chuckled.

“I expected no less.” He said before giving a little bow. “I shall see you tonight then my dear fellow.”

Bilbo watched him go, eyes tracking the tall shape till they disappeared over the far hillside. It was only then that a great gust of wind buffeted the area followed by a large shape landing beside him. Salvius hadn’t grown much in the last five years, still roughly the size of a carriage yet he’d grown a few extra features. Running down either side of his neck were fills that were a bright turquoise blue while the end of his tail had also grown two frills of either side that were a deep urban red colour. The colours contrasted well against his dark navy blue scales and made him even more impressive in Bilbo’s eyes.

“And what did the _Livasthen_ want?” Salvius questioned, forest green eyes gazing deeply into Bilbo’s own.

“We are to have visitors tonight, ones Gandalf is hoping we’ll journey with on an adventure.” He said, a soothing hand on the dragon’s snout.

“What visitors?”

Here Bilbo paused, heart, clenching with fear once more. “Dwarves.”

Salvius reared back, hissing with anger and a small amount of fright. “ _Neth!_ I do not want them anywhere near you much less our nest!”

In that moment, witness to a dragons anger, Bilbo is somewhat thankful Salvius is still too young to breathe fire for he knows that if he could that is exactly what the dragon would be doing. “ _Vel-ith, Vel-ith, solves Vel-ith,”_ Bilbo called out, hands held out in a calming gesture that works its magic, soothing away Salvius’ anger.

The dragon calmed, falling back down onto all-fours as he gazed down almost lovingly at the Hobbit before him. With a gentle rumble, dragon pressed his snout into waiting outstretched hands, both creatures closing their eyes in amity. With the danger of an enraged dragon no longer present, Bilbo felt confident as he once again looked into the eyes of his best friend.

“Gandalf has promised that they will not harm you. He’s also said that this will be a life-changing adventure. Don’t you wish to see the world Salvius? To travel to distant lands and discover new worlds?” Bilbo asked for surely his other half could feel it, the call to travel and explore, to stretch their wings and fly far past the horizon. The need was ever constant in Bilbo yet he’d always been too afraid to pursue it, his Baggins side clinging to the respectability that his father had taught him in favour of the adventure his mother had inspired. But now they were being given a chance, one that might not present itself for many more years and Bilbo was desperate to take it.

Salvius stared at his heart and soul, eyes knowing yet fearful. He desperately wanted to see the world just like Bilbo, but unlike the Hobbit, it wasn’t respectability keeping him in place. It was fear. Fear of losing the one being he couldn’t live without. He’d been with Bilbo since he’d been a year old, had been with him for the majority of his life. The Hobbit was his closest and only friend, his heart and soul, his brother in all but blood. Salvius was still young, was small and inexperienced. His scales were soft, still able to be pierced by swords and his chest was still cool from lack of fire. If he couldn’t breathe fire, if he couldn’t fly into battle without being hurt then he wouldn’t be able to keep Bilbo safe as was his purpose, his name said so after all. But his heart sang for open skies and endless spaces, to see mountains and fly over great oceans. Looking at the longing on Bilbo’s face, Salvius knew he would not be able to deny him this chance.

“They harm you, they burn. I don’t care that I cannot breathe fire yet, they will know a dragon’s wrath if they hurt you.” He vowed. Instead of being horrified Bilbo laughed knowingly, fingers running over the crown of horns along the back of Salvius’ head.

“I best start cooking then. We have guests to feed.” He smirked, Salvius rumbling along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon language  
> Livasthen = Wizard  
> Neth = No  
> Vel-ith = My Soul  
> Solves = Peace


	4. Far to the East

The first knock comes an hour after sundown. Salvius has hidden away in the back of the smial, waiting for when he will be introduced as both he and Bilbo agreed that it probably wouldn’t be the best to have a dragon be the first thing the dwarves see when they walk into the little home. No, it would be far better for everyone to have Salvius introduced once they were all there and well fed, calm and not ready to spring into action. Less chance of having Salvius harmed and less chance of the dwarves having their heads bitten off by said dragon.

At the sound of the knock, Bilbo hurried to answer the door, his brown trousers and white shirt stained slightly from cooking for most of the afternoon. The dwarf standing on his doorstep was an impressive figure, for that Bilbo had to admit. Tattooed and carrying large war hammers, this dwarf certainly looked like someone you wouldn’t want to run into in the dark. His eyes were sharp and calculating, taking in everything, scanning for possible threats. Yes, Bilbo decided, it was certainly a good idea to have Salvius hidden away instead of standing beside him when greeting the dwarves to his home.

"Dwalin, at your service." The dwarf before him bowed, never taking his eyes off of him, suspicion clear in them.

“Bilbo, at yours and your family.” Bilbo bowed back, deliberately maintaining eye contact in an almost challenging sort of way. He wasn’t afraid of this dwarf. Under his shirt, he wore a small vest made of dragon scales. While they weren’t strong enough to prevent a wound they would protect him enough to be able to reach for his own hidden weapon and to call for Salvius. The dwarf, Dwalin, blinked at his courage before giving a small nod of approval, though it was more to himself than to Bilbo. Step aside, Bilbo motioned him to come inside. “Please, hang your coat just here and you may leave your weapons here as well. The dining room is just down the hall and all the food is already set out so help yourself.”

Dwalin grunted before shrugging off his coat and dumping his hammers loudly on the ground, lumbering off to the promise of food. Bilbo watched him go, lips twitching ever so slightly as he caught sight of a scaled head peeking around the corner, glaring after the dwarf. “ _Yakler_.”

Bilbo snorted at that before waving him away back to hide hiding place, and not a moment too soon for once again came a knock at the door. With a small smile, he squared his shoulders and readied himself to greet more dwarves.

~~~~~

They certainly were a merry bunch Bilbo decided, watching them loudly chatter amongst themselves, throw food and even plates and cutlery around. The Hobbit could only imagine what he would have done if he still had his mother’s fine china, probably scream and yell at them. Instead, Bilbo found himself joining in, smiling and laughing at the stories they told and just basking in the company they were giving him. He loved Salvius to death and would never dream of parting from him, but it was nice to be around other ‘soft-skinned’ folk as Salvius called them. He didn’t get to spend time with his Took relatives as much as he would like too so this lively dinner was a welcomed change of pace.

“You’re a fine cook Master Baggins.” The large dwarf, Bombur declared as he helped himself to a second serving of roast duck with honey marinated carrots and little pork meatballs.

“Ay! He’s been a fine host.” The hatted one, Bofur added on while giving said Hobbit a hearty slap on the back. Had he been a different Hobbit, Bilbo would have been sent flying with an aching back. As it was, however, he’d been living with a dragon for the last 14 years and was used to being slap by an annoyed dragon’s tail and a dragon’s tail slap was much harder than a dwarf’s hand slap.

“Thank you Master Bombur and Master Bofur. It was actually quite enjoyable cooking for all of you. It has been a long time since I got to host so many guests.” Bilbo smiled at the dwarves, lightened by their friendliness, hope filling him that they wouldn’t react as badly as he first feared to Salvius.

“I thought you Hobbits had big families and the like.” One of the young ones, Kili, spoke up and Bilbo felt his heart quicken while his face became slightly downcast. From the back of the smial, his sharp hearing picked up the low rumble of anger that was Salvius.

“We do have big families normally, but I was the only child born to my parents and they died a while ago. My relatives on my mother's side are welcoming but I don’t see them as often as I would like. My relatives on my father's side I haven’t interacted with for about 14 years now.” Bilbo admitted, quickly taking note of the stunned silence that descended around him. Looking up found the shocked filled faces of those around him, food forgotten. The Hobbit flushed, embarrassed by the attention and a little angry with himself for revealing so much. He opened his mouth, intending to smooth things over and retrieve the good mood from earlier when three loud slow knocks sounded from the front door. Everyone stilled, even Gandalf seemed to grow suddenly wary as he ceased his smoking on his pipe.

“He is here.” The wizard muttered softly. Bilbo gazed at those around him, rolling his eyes at how tense they had gotten over three simple knocks. He could almost hear Salvius laughing at their fear.

Moving quickly, Bilbo rushed to the door, aware of the group following in his wake as he did so. With a sigh, he opened his door to greet his final guest, taking in the dark hair and ice blue eyes that sat on an angular face. The dwarf before him practically screamed of nobility in the way he carried himself. His clothes, while most certainly made for travel, were also of a fine make and the look in his eyes spoke of a leader and warrior, someone who would protect those under his care and defend them till his last breath. In a way, this dwarf reminded Bilbo of a dragon, a dragon of the earth who longed for mountains and stone instead of himself who longed for the wide open skies.

“Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce you to the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” Gandalf declared as the dwarf stepped into the entrance hall, his eyes sweeping over Bilbo in a critical manner that suddenly had the Hobbit on edge. This was a challenge if ever he had seen one and he was not about to back down. He was of the _Dokthlaris,_ a _Doktheirii._ He had fire in his vines and was a child of the sky itself. He would not be intimidated by a dwarf in his own _nest!_

“So, this is the Hobbit,” Thorin spoke while circling Bilbo who had to keep himself from snarling at the threatening gesture. “Tell me, Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

“Excuse me?” Bilbo questioned, wondering where the other was going with this line of questioning.

“Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" The dwarf pressed, disapproval clear in his tone and face.

Bilbo felt himself swell in anger, eyes lighting up with his inner fire. “A sword if you must know though I am pretty handy with a bow and arrow as well.”

This seemed to shock many of the dwarves for they muttered amongst themselves while Thorin raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him, scoffing in a mocking way. “Really? You certainly don’t look like a fighter. You look more like a grocer than a fighter much less a burglar."

Bilbo’s face flushed with rage, mouth opening to start raging at this stuck up fool when a deep, throaty growl reverberated through the room. Startled yelps quickly followed as all the dwarves scrambled to get out of the way of a very angry dragon that was quickly walking down the hall straight for the leader, fury clear in its sharp green eyes.

 _“_ You, _Nosleth,_ are a disgusting pile of _Rakka!_ Uncultured _Yakler!_ You come into my _Eirri’s_ nest, insult him and call him a lier! Is this how you treat your hosts? With such disrespect?” Salvius was practically spitting with rage, lips pulled back to bare sharp teeth while a constant growl crawled past them. He looked ready to leap at the dwarf and rip him in two, not caring of the others that were quickly rushing for their weapons while Thorin himself quickly drew his sword. They all froze however when Bilbo threw himself between them all, eyes wild and panicked.

“ _Svenoth! Svenoth!_ Stop all of you! Salvius won’t hurt you! Put away your weapons now!” Bilbo shouted before swinging on the dragon, swatting it on the nose much to the dwarves shock and slight horror. “And you! Calm down right now! Yes, he may be a _Yakler_ but that doesn’t mean you need to act so threateningly! My skin may be that of a soft-skinned but that doesn’t mean it is soft to petty words like that! I can handle myself. I don’t need you to fight every battle for me you overgrown lizard.”

The dwarves could hardly believe their eyes. Here they were, watching as a little Hobbit told of a dragon, an honest to Gods dragon! And the dragon was actually cowering under the tongue lashing, head bowing in embarrassment and eyes staring at the floor like an apologetic dwarfling! Shock and confusing was racing through all their minds, along with the surprise at hearing the language of the dragons flowing so easily from the Hobbit’s mouth as if he’d been born speaking it.

“I will not stand by while _Vel-eirri_ is insulted.” The dragon grumbled sulkily, tail lashing behind him.

The Hobbit seemed to sigh fondly, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “ _Vel-ith,_ I appreciate what you did, but you must understand that I am not completely helpless. I have my own armour of scales and fire to call upon even though I may not grow or breath it.”

With those words, the dragon finally calmed, body relaxing as he pressed his head up against the Hobbit’s chest, his growls softening into gentle rumbles of contentment. When his eyes opened once more, they looked to the dwarves not in anger but in warning and suspicion. It had many shivering in fright, their minds going back to the only other dragon they had encountered.

“Do not compare Salvius to _him!_ ” Bilbo hissed suddenly, eyes narrowed as he rested a hand on Salvius’ left flank. “He is nothing like the fire drake and never will be.”

“And how do you know this? And why do you have this beast with you?” Thorin growled dangerously, sword still held at the ready. Salvius hissed, the frills along the side of his neck shaking violently as he did so in a threatening manner. Bilbo shot the dragon a look, unimpressed by both him and Thorin.

“I met Salvius 14 years ago at the end of winter. He was only a year old, a hatchling and was alone and hungry. We were both freshly orphaned, both lost and in need of comfort. I took him in, nursed him back to health and bonded with him. I am his heart and he is my soul. We are one mind in two bodies, two halves of one whole. He would never hurt anyone unless it was in self-defence or if he was protecting me.” Bilbo stated calmly, his voice strong and clear.

“You’re a _Dokthlaris?_ ” Balin, the white-haired dwarf and brother to Dwalin spoke up in shock. Bilbo and Salvius jerked at the word, not expecting the dwarf to know it. He clearly wasn’t well versed in the dragon tongue for he stumbled over the vowels and nearly missed the L entirely.

“I am,” Bilbo said with a bow of his head.

“What does that mean?” Nori spoke up.

“It means I am dragon-kin.” Bilbo translated, fighting down the mad desire to laugh at the stunned faces sent his way.

“You call that bloodthirsty beast kin?” Thorin spat, ignoring the warning looks sent his way by Balin and Gandalf. Bilbo looked ready to bite the dwarf’s head clean off and Salvius looked like he’d happily watch him do it.

“He’s not a beast,” Bilbo growled before his face softened, a small amount of understanding passing his features. “Not to me at least.”

The dwarves shifted, uncertain, frightened, wary and Bilbo understood. They had been hurt terribly by a dragon, had grown up on stories about the horrors dragons brought with them, of their greed and desire to hurt and kill innocents. They didn’t know any better, so Bilbo couldn’t hold it against them. “When people look at Salvius, they are filled with fear and terror. They see something that could raise their homes to the ground and kill their families in an instant. To me, I see a magnificent creature that should inspire awe and wonder in the world. You all have only known the evil of the world when it comes to dragons, but Smaug is just one of them, he doesn’t represent all of them. All I ask of you is to give Salvius and I a chance, to try to see what I see and to not judge him until you actually get to know him.”

At first, none of the dwarves moved or spoke. Most had lowered their weapons though Thorin and Dwalin still held theirs tightly and at the ready. Then, ever so slowly, Bifur, the dwarf with the axe buried inside his skull walked towards Salvius. Mutters broke out, some calling for him to stop and not do it but they were all ignored. He walked up to Salvius who gazed down at him with narrowed eyes, a deep rumble echoing throughout his chest as he lowered his head to be on eye level with Bifur. With slow, deliberate movements, Bifur raised his hand towards the dragons head. For a second Salvius growled, lips pulled back to reveal his sharp teeth. Bifur paused for a moment, studying the creature before him before continuing with his movements, watching in awe as his hand came to gently rest on the dragon’s snout, between the nostrils that flared as they took in his scent. The growling ceased as Salvius grew steady, gazing at Bifur in a softer manner than before, accepting him for proving himself genuine and true in the face of danger. The dwarf nodded, growling out something in ancient Khuzdul which had Bofur cautiously stepping forward.

“He says that you have a mighty warrior Master Baggins that will protect you through the coming quest and that he is honoured to be in his presence.” The hatted dwarf translated. Instantly, Salvius reared up his head in delight, staring down at Bilbo in a smug way.

“Did you hear that my dear heart? He says he’s honoured to be around me.” The dragon preened much to Bilbo’s displeasure. He turned accusing eyes onto Bifur who was smiling happily at the Hobbit, looking mighty pleased with himself. “Look what you’ve started! He’ll be insufferable for days now!”

Bifur only laughed, giving Salvius one final pat on the side of his neck before re-joining his companions who looks much calmer than they did before. Before long, Fili, Kili and Ori had moved to greet Salvius who seemed willing to indulge in the youngster's curiosity. They reminded the dragon greatly of Bilbo in their questions when the Hobbit had been young and new to the world of dragons. His Hobbit was still young, still had that innocence and naivety to him of youth, but he was no longer ignorant to the ways of dragons. This journey would be good for both of them he decided, it would help them grow mentally and physically in a way they never would being stuck in the Shire.

“I think,” He began slowly, smirking at the way all the dwarves stilled at his voice, “That its time myself and my dear heart heard what you have to say about this quest and why you seem to have need of us.”

They moved back to the dining room, Salvius standing in the hallways with his head stretched out to peer over Bilbo’s shoulder, his bulk too large to fit inside the room with thirteen dwarves, one wizard and one hobbit. Both hobbit and dragon watched as a little map was laid out before them depicting a mountain. Instantly, both eyes were drawn to the little illustration of a red dragon drawn next to the mountain and it filled them both with a sense of dread and fear.

“Far to the east, past the Misty Mountains and through the Mirkwood lies the ancient home of the line of Durin,” Gandalf spoke up as the dwarves gazed at the map in longing.

“The Lonely Mountain, Erebor.” Thorin breathed softly.

“Your Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror,” Bilbo said matter of factly, amused when Thorin blinked at him in shock. “I like to read a lot when I’m not being harassed by this one.” He smiled while jerking a finger at Salvius.

“Then by now, you must know that our quest is to reclaim our homeland,” Thorin stated.

Here, Bilbo frowned, stomach unsettled while Salvius growled worriedly. “Yes, and I also know what lies within that mountain.”

“Smaug.” Salvius hissed. The frills along the dragon's neck trembled, fear and anger clear in his voice.

“I hope you don’t intend to have Salvius challenge the fire drake Gandalf.” Bilbo warned dangerously, “You said so yourself that he’s still very young. Not to mention he’s not even half that monsters size.”

“Actually laddie, we were told that you’d be hired into the company as a burglar,” Nori spoke up which had hobbit and dragon eyes widening in surprise.

“A burglar? You want me to steal from a dragon?” Bilbo asked.

“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, you more so than the rest of your kin Bilbo. And the smell of dwarf will be known to Samug, not the smell of Hobbit.” Gandalf pointed out.

“And the smell of another dragon? Pretty sure Smaug will quickly take note of that scent.”

“The beast hasn’t been seen in over sixty years lad,” Balin spoke up. “And before that, he’d never gone far from the mountain. The smell of his own kin will be a distant memory to him.”

“Then that means he’s probably dead!” Kili suggested hopefully only to have both Bilbo and Salvius shake their heads.

“Dragons can live for many years without food. Some have been known to sleep for centuries before waking.” Bilbo sadly informed them all. He gazed once more at the map, at what had once been a proud kingdom, a safe haven for the dwarves, a home. Their home had been taken from them, much like how Bag End had been taken from him by his greedy Baggins relatives. Bilbo understood, better than most just what the dwarves felt.

“ _Doktheirri,_ you are no _Nevos._ Do you really believe you can do this?” Salvius gently questioned.

The hobbit stared long and hard at the map, at the place where a being slept that poisoned many minds against dragon kind. This quest had the potential to not only reclaim a dwarven homeland but also to show all of Middle-Earth that not all dragons are evil and corrupt like Smaug. He knew in that moment that he would follow these dwarves to the ends of the earth to help them take back their home and to give Salvius a better future. “I assume there’s a contract for me to sign.”

There was a quick flurry of movement as the contract was handed over, amusement on Bilbo’s part as he read through it and all the fine detail before he signed his name at the bottom with a flourish, excitement pooling in his stomach. After that he quickly handed out blankets and pillows, showing the dwarves different areas where they could sleep for the night. An old, hunting song was sung by them that thrummed deep in Bilbo and Salvius’ soul and before long everyone inside the smial was tuck away in their beds or sleeping rolls, ready to face the day ahead and start out on a journey that would shape all of Middle-Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon language  
> Yakler = Rude/thoughtless person  
> Dokthlaris = Dragon Kin  
> Doktheirii = Dragon heart  
> Nosleth = Dwarf  
> Rakka = Droppings/dung  
> Eirri = Heart  
> Svenoth = Stop/wait/halt  
> Vel-eirri = My heart  
> Vel-ith = My soul  
> Nevos = Theft/to steal/thief


	5. Of Baggins and Tooks

Bilbo writes a letter and leaves it pinned on his front door, knowing one of his Took cousins will come looking for him soon enough and find it. He leaves it so they will not worry when they cannot find him for they have been the only family besides Salvius to him in the last 14 years. He packed his father's old map of Middle-Earth and his mother's dagger. He packed an oil-skinned coat for rain, a furred hooded jacket for the cold and his brown riding pants. Hidden under his white shirt and jacket is his dragon scale armour that also runs down his legs. Strapped to his hip is an old looking sword, the blade hollowed out in the centre. The dwarves had scoffed at it and Bilbo let them with a smile, only he and Salvius knowing that when a mechanism was pushed on the hilt the blade would be coated in flames, Bilbo’s own dragon fire. Also hidden under his clothes and attached to his armour was his flight suit, his wings always at the ready should he need them. The company mount their ponies while Bilbo gives Salvius a nod, the dragon taking to the skies with a loud shrieking cry as he does so, saddle strapped to his back much to the dwarves shock.

“You mean to tell me that you ride him?” Fili cried out in both horror and excitement.

“Of course I ride him. He is my soul and I his heart. We do everything together including learning to fly.” Bilbo laughed in delight, eyes shining with the memory of their first flight together.

“What’s it like to fly?” Ori asked in awe making Nori and Dori roll their eyes fondly.

“Its…its like leaving behind all your worries. You forget about the troubles of life and only focus on the wind flowing through your fingers. For me, there’s no fear even though the ground is far below me for I know Salvius will always catch me.” Bilbo explained with a dreamy smile. “Flying is freedom.”

“It sounds wonderful, though I will say I much prefer my feet on the ground.” Kili laughed and for that Bilbo can’t fault him.

They ride their ponies for a good few hours, small talk flowing easily between the whole company when Bilbo suddenly realizes where they are going. The road they are on will eventually take them through Hobbiton, through his old home where he’d been chased out of when he was only a tween, a child really. The closer they ride the more withdrawn Bilbo becomes, his good mood quickly vanishing as old memories and fears are brought to the surface. Of course, Fili and Kili quickly take note of his quieting mood.

“Everything alright Master Boggins?” Kili asked loudly, drawing a few eyes.

Said hobbit felt like sinking down into his saddle and into the earth. “Well, its just been a long time since I’ve been back to Hobbiton is all.”

The company don’t push for answers as they soon receive them once they start riding through the little community. Whispers follow them as they pass, eyes glaring and full of mistrust and fear. At one point, a young tween even throws a rock at Bilbo who is quick to duck out the way, turning vicious eyes on the offender.

“Don’t do that stupid! The freak will set his monster on you.” Another hobbit growls at the tween making many eyes in the company widen.

“I don’t see no monster right now. All I see is an unwanted disgrace to the Baggins name.” The tween sneered gaining many calls of agreement. None louder than that of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. The horrible woman stalked down Bag shot road from Bag End, eyes as cold as steel while Bilbo seethed with rage. This woman had stolen his home from him, had made him homeless for a time and treated him like scum. He held no love for her or her husband.

“Come to weep once more over my home?” She questioned that had Bilbo baring his teeth.

“My parents home will never be yours Lobelia no matter what you say. It will always and forever belong to them.” He spat eliciting a shrill laugh from her.

“And yet I’m the one living in it.” The dwarves, even Thorin looked between the two Hobbits with wide eyes, unsure on just what the confrontation was about and how quickly it could possibly escalate.

“You’re a vile woman! You stole my home from me when I was only a child, freshly orphaned with nowhere to go. My father was barely gone a week before you descended like a vulture.” Bilbo yelled, losing his temper as years worth of hurt and anger rushed o the surface. “You forced a child out onto the streets! How can you live with yourself? And you call me a disgrace to the Baggins name.”

“How dare you! I kicked you out because you brought that monster home with you and chose it over your own flesh and blood! You chose to endanger the whole Shire!” Lobelia screamed sounding more like a banshee than a hobbit.

“You were trying to kick me out before I even met Salvius! Don’t try and pretend that you were in the right here.” Bilbo sat up straighter in his saddle, his eyes alight with fire that made the dwarves think that he truly was a dragon-kin.

“You were never a true Baggins anyway. More Took than anything, bringing shame to us all. Bungo will be rolling in his grave at seeing what you’ve become.” Lobelia hissed. Bilbo had gone white as a sheet, his face filled with hatred and loathing. Even the dwarves who barely knew him looked outraged on his behalf at the woman’s words. Gandalf particularly looked fit to explode with rage if the shadows growing around him were any indication. But before anyone could make a move to defend the little hobbit a loud shrieking cry sounded from over their heads.

All around them, hobbits screamed in terror, ducking down or just plain throwing themselves to the floor as Salvius flew low over Hobbiton, his belly just skimming over the groups head as he flew past and then back up into the sky where he circled, calling out every now and then. Slowly, everyone pulled their frightened eyes away from the circling dragon to the hobbit that was bonded with him. Bilbo was once again calm and collected, face no longer white and drawn. In its place was the cool mask of a warrior who gazed down at Lobelia with unfeeling eyes that promised pain and suffering should she open her mouth again.

“I’d be careful cousin Lobelia, I am after all the freak who owns a dragon and I can’t always control him. He does as he chooses most of the time and you wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.” Bilbo warned, taking great pleasure as her face went from red to white to green in the span of a few seconds. With one last cold look, Bilbo spurred his horse on, taking care not to allow his eyes to drift up towards Bag End. He focused on the road ahead, on just making it through the rest of Hobbiton. He focused on Salvius’ screaming calls from high above them, a reminder that his soul was there for him and would never leave him.

“Alright there, laddie?” One of the dwarves, Gloin, asked once they had ridden a fair distance from the crowd of hobbits.

“I will be once we leave here,” Bilbo muttered darkly, Gandalf nodding in agreement while sending a vicious glare back at the hobbits.

“I take it that’s why you hadn’t seen your relatives on your father's side for so long?” Nori spoke up which earned him a slap upside the head from Dori. Bilbo, for his part, didn’t tense in anger or show any sign of his hurt. Instead, the hobbit took a calming breath and nodded gently, his face a mask of calm and peace.

“Most of my Baggins relatives didn’t take too kindly to my father marrying my mother. They didn’t approve of her being a Took, said she was too wild and un-proper which would damage the Baggins name. When I was born they turned that disapproval towards me. It didn’t help that my father built the grandest and most expensive smial in all of Hobbiton for my mother as a wedding gift. It made everyone else highly jealous. So, when news got back to them of both my parent's deaths they saw it as their chance to take Bag End. Salvius was just an added bounce for them, an excuse as to why they kicked me out onto the streets with nowhere to go.” Bilbo explained, his voice distant and detached for what he was saying. The dwarves for their part look horrified by his words. To them, family is everything and they would never dream of stealing from family or abandoning them. Even Thorin looked troubled by Bilbo’s words, his eyes flicking to Fili and Kili and trying to imagine what could possibly make him turn his back on his nephews.

From high above, Salvius gave another loud cry, abandoning his circling in favour of flying on ahead towards the forest, his large wings making rhythmic beats as they moved through the air. The sound brought a smile to Bilbo’s face, something the dwarves didn’t miss. It was clear, at least to them, that the hobbit viewed the dragon as more a part of his family than his actual blood relatives. It had them thinking that perhaps that wasn’t so bad because at least the dragon seemed to care for Master Baggins.


	6. Bree

They arrived at Bree two days after departing from Bilbo’s home, the little settlement being one of the last they would encounter before they began the dangerous trek through the Misty Mountains. When they were about a mile away from the village Bilbo pulled on his rains, his pony coming to a halt which in turn made all the dwarves stop to stare at him wondering why he’d paused. Thorin scowled, manoeuvring his own pony closer to the hobbit.

“Is our burglar getting cold feet already?” He snapped, hating that they were being held up by such a weak creature. For his part, Master Baggins only sent Throin a narrowed eyed look before turning his attention skyward. It was the only warning they had before the great dragon landed in the clearing before them, the ground trembling ever so slightly and causing the ponies to rear up in alarm. Bilbo had already dismounted, quickly making his way over to his friend, gentle hands coming to run over the hard scales of the dragon's snout.

“We’ll reach Bree very shortly and for your own safety _Vel-ith,_ you must stay out of sight. The men won’t take too kindly to the sight of you flying over their homes.” Bilbo spoke softly though the whole company was able to hear him. “It’ll only be for a few days at most.”

Salvius grumbled, not liking the thought of being separated for even a few days. They had never been apart for more than a few hours since that fateful day in the forest when they first met. To be apart for so long, it felt wrong on an instinctual level. But, Salvius could see the logic in him staying away from the human settlement. Rumours had been floating around for years of the dragon that lived in the Shire and the Hobbit that ‘commanded’ it but that didn’t mean people were used to seeing a dragon flying over their homes. Even Bilbo’s Took relatives were still wary of his presence, never fully trusting of him in the way Bilbo was.

“If anything goes wrong you know what to do to signal me.” Salvius finally said, pushing his nose into Bilbo’s chest and breathing in his scent of wood smoke and the open sky. He sank into the feeling of Bilbo’s fingers tracing the scales along his jawline, basking in the comforting sound of the hobbits heartbeat. To the both of them, the moment stretched on for hours when in reality it was only a few seconds, both pulling back at the same time. With a final touch to the dragon’s face, Bilbo turned and walked back to his pony, mounting the animal and allowing himself to be dragged back into a conversation with Fili and Kili. The company followed, all but Thorin who felt the eyes on him and turned to find Salvius staring intently at him, those bright green eyes cutting deep into the dwarf king's soul. “If anything happens to him, then I hold you responsible.”

With those parting words the dragon once again took to the skies, banking left and away from Bree and towards the neighbouring forest. Thorin felt he could finally breathe again once the dragon had vanished from his sight, though his gut still sat curled in on itself at the unspoken threat hanging on the air. Should anything happen to Bilbo Baggins, Thorin knew he would be the first to die in the rain of fire that Salvius would bring onto those that had hurt the hobbit. It wasn’t a comforting thought.

~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t too hard to find an Inn that would take them and quickly the dwarves had found a table for themselves and had ordered as much food as possible. The scene was very similar to the one Bilbo had been greeted with back in his own home with loud laughter and the occasional food item thrown across the table. It was…it was nice seeing the dwarves all so happy. He’d only been in their company for a few days but he could already see that they all cared deeply for each other.

“Here Master Boggins! Try this.” Kili called before throwing a piece of meat towards Bilbo who, with refined reflexes due to flying and living with a dragon for so many years was able to catch it in his mouth with ease. The dwarves all roared loudly in approval, Bifur and Dwalin slapping him on the back in celebration. When Fili handed Bilbo a piece of roasted potato while pointing to Bombur the hobbit smirked, taking careful aim before flinging the baked good at the rounded dwarf. He’d timed it perfectly, the potato landing in the dwarf’s mouth when he’d opened it to scoop some stew into it. The table was alight with loud rambunctious laughter at the sight of Bombur sitting there wide-eyed and stunned.

“Looks like he wasn’t kidding when he said he was good with a bow with aim like that,” Oin called out to the loud agreement of the table. Bilbo just smirked, happy that they all finally seemed to believe him on that front.

“And here I thought you’d be like all those other hobbits and be appalled by our table manners.” Nori cackled to which Bilbo rolled his eyes.

“When you share your meals with Salvius you quickly learn that there's no such thing as table manners.” He chuckled. “Sometimes you gotta eat fast or he’ll steal the food right out of your mouth.”

“Sounds like Bombur.” Bofur howled with laughter and was quickly joined by everyone else. Even Thorin cracked a small smile.

The rest of the night is spent much the same with loud laughter and stories of battles and victories passed around the table. By the time they clamber into their rooms most are dead on their feet and are asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. Bilbo, however, sits by the window with eyes trained to the sky. For the first time in years he’s spent the whole day on the ground and for the first time in 14 years, he’s about to go to sleep without the warmth of Salvius’ scales beside him. It’s a disconcerting feeling that leaves his stomach in knots and heart fluttering in his chest. Bilbo never thought he’d be one to experience separation anxiety like a lot of faultlings had when their parents had to leave them for an hour or two but what he felt in that moment certainly felt like it. All he wanted to do was rush down the stairs and into the forest, to call out for his soul and throw himself into the warm scales of his friend.

“Mister Boggins?” Bilbo startled, hand reaching for the small dagger on his belt on instinct. But then his brain caught up and he relaxed, green eyes locking with the blue of Kili’s. The young dwarf was sitting up from his bed-roll on the floor as the room only held four beds which were being used by Thorin, Balin, Oin and Gandalf. Those blue eyes stared at him in worry but also a hint of understanding. “Can you not sleep Master Boggins?”

The nickname brings forth a snort from Bilbo who rolls his eyes fondly. “No, not yet at least.”

“Do you miss Salvius?” The fact that Kili called him Salvius and not dragon has something in Bilbo’s chest warming, a sense of hope and belonging igniting inside him.

“We’ve never been apart for so long.” He admits, cheeks turning red with embarrassment. He was a year past his majority, not some snivelling child who needed his mother. He shouldn’t be so worked up over Salvius not being there. But there was no mocking laughter or taunting words from Kili. The dark-haired youth only nodded in understanding while sending a look to his sleeping brother.

“Fili and I are always together. But one day, Uncle decided to take Fili with him on one of his trips to visit the Iron Hill clan leaving me behind. It was the first time we’d ever been separated and it was awful. For a whole week, I would cry to my mother at night because I missed my brother.” Kili muttered softly into the still night air. Bilbo stared for a good long moment before smiling, heart settling at last.

“Salvius, he’s basically the only family I have that matters. I saved his life when I found him, have looked after him since he was a tiny hatchling. I worry for him.” Bilbo sighed.

“Well, its like you told him when Uncle showed up in your home. You can take care of yourself and I’m sure he can take care of himself.”

Bilbo could not find fault in those words. While Salvius couldn’t yet breath fire and his scales were still not as hard as diamonds he could handle himself, more so than Bilbo for sure. For each day his scales grow harder, his inner fire grows hotter, his eyes sharper and wings stronger. Bilbo knows that out of the two of them, Salvius is the strongest, the one who would survive out in the wilderness the longest, would be the best in a fight. He still worries, still sometimes sees the little starving hatchling that had snuggled into his arms for warmth, but he knows Salvius is more than capable of handling himself.

“Brothers worry for each other no matter what, there’s no shame,” Kili adds on and Bilbo stares in shock, surprised that someone who barely knows him is able to see the bond between him and his dragon, that it is more than master and pet, more than friends. Kili smiles gently, holding a hand out to the hobbit who can only blink at him. “It’ll be easier to sleep if you have company.”

With a breathy laugh, Bilbo allows himself to be pulled down between the two brothers, Fili mumbling in his sleep as he throws an arm over the hobbit while Kili snuggles into his side, a teasing smile on his face. In the morning the rest of the company will find the two Durin brothers curled around the hobbit, all three of them fast asleep. Thorin will scowl but at the same time feel something inside him soften. For in sleep the hobbit is young, no longer the somewhat unnerving sight of a being that commands a fire breathing dragon, who wears armour made of dragon scales and is at home in the sky more than on the ground.

They spend two days in Bree, buying last minute supplies and resting up for the long journey ahead. In those two days, Salvius stays away and Bilbo remains with the dwarves and Gandalf. For two days they are apart, souls and hearts heavy but they manage. When the time comes for the company to leave the great navy blue dragon is waiting for them at the edge of the forest, head held high and tail lashing. Bilbo runs for him, scrambling up onto his beloved companions back without a second thought. The dwarves have only a second to call out to him before Salvius leaps into the air, wings propelling them into the sky at high speed. The air bites at Bilbo’s face and howls in his ears and he loves every second of it.

When they reach the same level as the clouds Bilbo pulls hard on the saddles harness and Salvius shrieks in delight, falling backwards and into a steep dive. When his rider leans to the left his wings snap out, catching the air and halting they're decent as he quickly banks left, dodging between the clouds faster than some can blink. They twist and turn, spinning and diving before finally evening out into a gentle glide, allowing Bilbo to hold his arms out and feel the air flowing between his fingers. If they were back home in the Shire they would spend hours up in the cold winds embrace, simply enjoying the wide open spaces. But they are not at home and have a group waiting for them that they must return too. With great reluctance Bilbo leans to the right, guiding them back down towards the ground where the dwarves all stand in stunned silence. When they land, Fili, Kili and Ori rush forward with wide smiles, eyes alight with wonder and awe.

“You really can ride him!” Ori cheers to the fond amusement of Nori and Dori.

“The way you just shot off the ground like an arrow! You were like one body.” Kili yelled as Fili shoved him aside, reaching out a hand to pat Salvius on the neck which the dragon allowed.

“We could see some of the moves you pulled up in the clouds. They were so fluid!” Fili praised which had both Bilbo and Salvius straightening in happiness. No one had ever complimented them on their flying seeing how all the other hobbits were afraid of Salvius. It was nice to hear someone say that their flying was good, to see others were just as excited by their flying as they were.

“And they’ve cost us an hour of daylight,” Thorin called from his pony, features set in a stony glare. Instantly the young dwarves wilted, rushing back to their own ponies while Bilbo rolled his eyes and Salvius snorted smoke.

“You _Noslethven_ feel the call of stone. It is your element, where you feel at home correct?” Salvius questioned suddenly, waiting until Balin gave a curt nod. “The sky is our home, where we feel most comfortable. We hear its call as deeply as you hear that of stone. We cannot ignore it for long.”

Satisfied that his point has been made Salvius is quick to return to the skies, calling out above them as they ride. Bilbo wishes he was up there with him but the quick flight has helped settle his nerves, helping him feel grounded in himself once more.

“That word he used before, what did it mean?” Ori asks softly, book open as he pulls his pony up next to Bilbo’s.

“It is the draconic word for dwarves.” Bilbo translates, smiling as Ori scribbles away in his book.

“Are you fluent in the dragon language?” Its Balin who asks this time.

“Yes, though not all words in Westron have a dragon equivalent. Dragons really only have words for things that are deemed important. For example, we have no word for marriage or city for we don’t have such things.” Bilbo explained only to pause at the looks being sent his way. “What?”

“You said ‘we’ when referring to the dragons.” Nori pointed out.

“Oh,” Bilbo muttered, eyes wide, “Well, I suppose I do see myself as more of a dragon at times than a hobbit. I certainly feel more like a dragon.”

“Ay, we can see that laddie.” Bofur chuckled good-naturedly which had Bilbo relaxing, glad they didn’t seem put off by this revelation about himself. Instead, they seemed to accept this part of him with open arms, not judging him for his apparent dismissal of his own blood race. He was happy to see the company slowly warming up to Salvius and dragon ways. It gave him hope for the future, that someday dragons wouldn’t be viewed as the destructive beasts that they were known for being. Perhaps, with time and gentle education, the rest of the world would finally see them for the wonder they truly were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Language:  
> Vel-ith = My soul  
> Noslethven = Dwarves


	7. Troll Shall

The woods are strange to Bilbo, more closed in a knarled then the ones that had surrounded his smial back in the Shire. It has a sense of foreboding building up inside him, that animalistic part of his brain that acts more dragon than hobbit softly whispering to him to be wary, that danger lurks nearby. He thinks of mentioning this to the others, to Thorin, but decides not to, knowing the leader of the company would never take his warnings to heart. So Bilbo resigns himself to silence, instead listening more intently to the forest around him, relaxing every now and then when he hears the distant cry of Salvius high above them in the clouds. A part of him wishes to signal his old friend, to bring him closer to the ground so that he can grab onto a low hanging leg and pull himself up onto the dragon’s back so that they both may fly high up away from the horrible forest. Still, Bilbo remains silent and still, holding fast in his resolve to stand firm in the face of danger.

“We will camp here for the night!” Thorin’s voice calls out from the front of the company, pulling Bilbo from his thoughts so that he may better take in his surroundings. Instantly his eyes are drawn to an old building that is falling apart and destroyed and suddenly the sense of danger grows stronger. It’s enough to make his lip curl in the mockery of a snarl, a habit he’d picked up from Salvius long ago.

Towards the edge of the camp, Bilbo spies Gandalf having what appears to be a heated discussion with Thorin, the dwarf seeming to not want to listen to whatever the Wizard had to say for suddenly the grey clothed man turned away in a huff, face stony as he stomped off past Bilbo who had the sense not to question the angered man.

By the time night had fallen, Bilbo felt ready to bolt in the direction that Salvius had gone seeing how where they were currently camping wasn’t big enough for the dragon to land. Bilbo had wanted to go to the clearing where Salvius had landed and spend the night with him but it wouldn’t have felt right to leave the dwarves behind like that. For some reason, he felt that if he left the dwarves alone tonight then something would go terribly wrong. And wrong it went indeed.

Of course there had to be Trolls in the area and of course, Fili and Kili had to be distracted enough to miss the Trolls making off with some of the ponies. Bilbo silently prayed to the Green Mother to save him from the stupidity of dwarves. He made a promise to himself that once he’d gotten the dwarves out of the situation they were in he was going to knock the brother’s heads together for their foolishness. Being stuck in a sack of all things! He was a _Dokthlaris_ for heaven's sake! He should not have been captured so easily but of course, Thorin had to lead the whole company into the Trolls camp screaming for blood and battle before Bilbo himself could take care of the Trolls. And now they were all about to be cooked and eaten like livestock! Bilbo was going to knock many heads together after this!

From inside his sack, Bilbo wriggled and stretched out his hand as far as it could go, smirking to himself when it finally curled around the hilt of his retractable flame sword. All he would have to do was push a mechanism that would release the blade and then another that would coat it with fire. But first, he was going to have some fun.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He called up, watching as the Trolls began to argue and one suggested just eating the dwarves raw and whole, easily lifting Bombur up with the intention to do just that. The Troll paused, lowering Bombur just slightly while the other two turned to stare at Bilbo who was gazing at them with a bored expression.

“And why not?” The hungry one who wanted to eat Bombur grumbled.

“Because uncooked dwarf will give you a nasty sickness that will make you vomit for days,” Bilbo said, his voice and face blank while the dwarves began to send him suspicious glances. “No, what you need to do is properly season them and then skin them, allows the flavour to seep into the meat and also cleanses it so it won’t make you sick.”

Instantly voices began to shout in protest, calling him a traitor and many other horrid names that had Bilbo’s back stiffening. If he could breathe fire then those dwarves would be nothing but ash by now.

“How’s it you know how to cook dwarves?” The apparent leader of the Trolls, the cook, sneered down at Bilbo. If only he would lean down just a bit more, then Bilbo could drive his sword right through his ugly face.

“Let's just say I have a friend who has a big appetite and likes to indulge in different meats.” Bilbo smiled something that was all teeth. “Though I wouldn’t recommend these dwarves, they are riddled with parasites after all. It’s why I haven’t cooked them myself yet.”

“We don’t have parasites!”

“You’re the one with parasites!”

Perhaps he needed to knock all their heads twice? Maybe a good thrashing would knock some sense into them. Not knowing what else to do Bilbo sent a withering look at Thorin who seemed to finally catch on to what he was doing, eyes widening ever so slightly before delivering a swift kick to Kili, silencing the whole company. And then they all began to shout on how they had the biggest parasites, that they had more than seemed physically possible. Again, Bilbo wished to knock their heads for being so obvious. But their stupidity did have one good thing, it got the Cook Troll’s attention and made him lean down so his face was pushed into Bilbo’s, his foul breath nearly making the poor hobbit gag.

“You think I don’t know what your doing?” It growled at Bilbo, lifting a fat finger to jab at the smaller creatures chest. “I ain’t stupid, I see right through your –”

The Trolls words were cut off by a loud squelching sound as Bilbo clicked the mechanism on his sword, releasing the blade right through the Trolls eye. Blood spurted from the wound, coating Bilbo in the hot sticky liquid. For a moment, all was still and silent as none seemed to be able to process what had just happened. Then, Bilbo leaned closer to the Troll’s head, the creature slowly starting to make choked sounds of pain and shock.

 _“Lal-ith th-rakares ge Lal-eirii th-hasloth.”_ The hobbit hissed before ripping his sword free, watching with cold eyes as the Troll gave one last spluttering cry before falling over dead. Bilbo turned his eyes onto the remaining two Trolls, fingers pressing down on the hilt of his sword once more, igniting it in a wall of flames that had them both flinching back in fear.

“What are you?” One stuttered in horror, eyes wide in terror.

“I am a _Dokthlaris,_ child of the sky and flame. Wind rider and storm chaser.” Bilbo spoke up, voice proud and calm. Green eyes bore into those of the Trolls, a sense of calm washing over him as he felt the shadow of his heart and soul loom over him with a vicious growl. Salvius stared down the Trolls who trembled in dread as they shook their heads in disbelief. “I am the dragon's child, and you made a grave mistake crossing us.”

With a loud earth shattering cry, Salvius surged forward, teeth and claws ripping into the Trolls like a knife through hot butter. Their screams of pain echoed throughout the night, silenced quickly as the navy blue dragon ripped out their throats for even daring to lay a finger on his rider, brother and heart. He killed them quickly but painfully, a warning to all that should they ever think of harming his Bilbo in any way they would meet their demise by his teeth and claws and one day, his fire as well.

It’s all over in a matter of seconds, the Trolls dead and Bilbo cutting the dwarves free. Their faces are pale, shaken by the violence that their hobbit had just displayed as well as the jarring reminder that yes, Salvius is a dragon, a wild animal that can and will kill when those he deems as family are threatened. Poor Ori looks one second away from passing out from the fear and shock of the whole affair so Bilbo decides that the lad doesn’t deserve a head-knocking as he’s already seemed to have learnt his lesson. With that thought in mind, he quickly marches up to the two Durin brother’s who are staring at him like he’s some frightening creature from Mordor. They flinch when he reaches out to them only to give cries of slight pain and surprise when Bilbo knocked their heads together harshly, his eyes alight with dragon fire.

“That’s for losing the ponies!” He screams, face flushed with anger while the brothers themselves flush with embarrassment, Thorin looking like he too wishes to knock some sense into them at hearing this. Quick as a flash Bilbo knocks their heads together again, huff through his nose at their childish whines. “And that’s for just up and leaving me with them as well! Honestly, for all you knew I had no weapons training and no way to defend myself if I was caught! Your lucky _Dokthra Rakares_ is retractable and is therefore easily overlooked and not seen as a weapon otherwise Bombur may very well have been Troll food!”

The brothers look down at their feet, jumping when Salvius leaned down to snort disapprovingly at them. “Foolish hatchlings.”

“Hey! We’re not hatchlings! We are considered adults in dwarven years!” Fili protests.

“Yeah! We’re older than both of you!” Kili puts in to which Bilbo flicks him on the nose.

“You don’t act like it!” He snaps though some of the anger is quickly leaving him. Within a matter of seconds, he and the brothers are bickering like siblings, all anger and frustration forgotten as the dwarves assure themselves that everyone is safe and unharmed, coming up to Bilbo one by one to apologize for calling him a traitor and other things. At some point during all of this, the sun rises and Gandalf re-appears, eyes twinkling with knowing and amusement.

“Seems you’ve all had an interesting night.” The wizard chuckled to which Thorin glared, Bilbo snorted and Salvius blew smoke from his nose.

“ _Vaka Livasthen,”_ Salvius muttered which pulled another snort from Bilbo who then sent a wide smile to the dragon.

“ _Ves, la ge vaka. La ge nav-marthna nav-livasthen.”_ Bilbo snickered making Salvius rumble in agreement. Gandalf sent them narrowed eyed looks but didn’t comment on their conversation that only they could understand.

The wizard was obviously not too put out by their secret conversation for when they came upon the Troll hoard Gandalf was quick to hand over what had obviously been an elf dagger, talking about how the blade glowed blue in the presence of goblins and such. Bilbo had some knowledge of sword fighting but not a lot. He much prefered his bow and arrow as well as trusting in Salvius’ teeth and claws. His own sword, _Dokthra Rakares,_ was more of a warning than an actual weapon for him to use. The sword would protect him if needed but the main idea was to scare his enemies with the flames and then either shoot them with an arrow, quickly cut them down with the sword and buy enough time for Salvius to come in and save him. Still, it couldn’t hurt to carry an extra weapon.

“A dragon needs his claws,” Salvius growled, sniffing at the blade. “There’s are your claws, use them well _Vel-eirii.”_

“Always.” Bilbo soothed, hands running along the hard smooth scales of his companion's jaw. And the time to use them arrived quicker than expected with the arrival of Radagast and the knowledge that they were being hunted by Orcs no less. Bilbo really needed to get round to knocking some sense into Thorin’s head and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Language:
> 
> Dokthlaris = Dragon Kin  
> Lal = you/your/yours  
> Ith = soul  
> Th = will/have/are  
> Rakares = fire/burn  
> Ge = and/is/was  
> Eirii = heart  
> Hasloth = rot/decay/die  
> Dokthra Rakares = Dragon Fire  
> Vaka = idiot/stupid  
> Livasthen = wizard  
> Ves = yes/correct  
> La = male/he/his  
> Nav = more/then  
> Marthna = men/man  
> Vel-eirii = My heart
> 
> Sentence translations:   
> Lal-ith th-rakares ge Lal-eirii th-hasloth = Your soul will burn and you heart will rot  
> Vaka Livasthen = Stupid wizard  
> Ves, la ge vaka. La ge nav-marthna nav-livasthen = Yes, he is stupid. He acts more man than wizard


	8. Welcome to Rivendell

Radagast was an odd fellow. He prefered the company of animals, seemed to be missing a few spoons from his cutlery draw so to speak and had a different fashion sense in that he didn’t seem to mind having bird droppings in his hair. However, he was a man, or wizard, who knew when he was in the presence of a mighty creature and knew how to be respectful. When he’d laid his eyes on Salvius he’d promptly bowed his head, offering up compliments and praise to the dragon who preened under the words. Bilbo had initially been miffed by this, always finding Salvius’ ego was far too large and didn’t need anything to add to it, but then Radagast turned his praise on him and that had quickly shut him up.

“Never dreamed I’d ever be in the presence of a _Dokthlaris_ again. Even in days of old, they were a rarity. Dragons were very particular with who they bonded with if they bonded at all. It was seen as the highest honour to be chosen.” Radagast prattled on, Bilbo blinking in surprise while Salvius tilted his head in curiosity.

“Do you know much about dragon history?” Bilbo asked, both he and Salvius desperate for any information. What knowledge they had was limited at best, Salvius running off what little his mother had taught him in his first year of life before her death. They both knew the dragon tongue as well as they knew Westron, perhaps even better, and they knew a little about the _Dokthlaris._ From there, their knowledge grew patchy.

“Not much I’m afraid. Dragons guarded their culture and secrets fiercely.” Radagast apologized much to their disappointment. They never got to ask on what he did know for that is when the Warg scout attacked, lunging at Bofur from the shadows of the trees. It never made it, Salvius rushing forward to close his jaws on the animal's neck, snapping it with ease while Bilbo notched an arrow and fired it into the Orc’s skull. When he looked, two arrows lay on the dead Orc, Kili also having drawn his bow.

“What is going on?” Thorin demanded, Salvius lifting his head to sniff the air.

 _“Ravna’s._ A pack of them.” Salvius hissed, frills trembling with disgust and rage. Seeing their confused looks he sneered, teeth gleaming. “Orc’s in your Westron.”

“Your being hunted!” Gandalf shouted.

“We’ll never outrun an Orc pack on Wargs,” Dwalin growled while the others hissed and grumbled to themselves.

“The ponies have bolted.” Kili cried while Fili turned his eyes onto Salvius who snorted angrily.

“I am not a horse! Nor am I large enough to carry all of you. And even if I was, only Bilbo rides with me through the skies.” He blew hot air into the Prince’s face, belly faintly glowing with the desire to breathe fire yet still too young and too small to be able too.

“Can’t you fight them off?” Nori snarked and this time it was Bilbo who snarled in anger.

“He’s not a weapon! And while his scales are hard they aren’t as strong as an adult dragon. He can still be hurt by swords and can still be killed! I will not have you risk his life like that.” The hobbit placed himself between all the dwarves and his friend, fingers resting just above the mechanism that will release his flame sword while the other hovers over the hilt of the elvish blade.

“No one is sacrificing anyone!” Thorin suddenly cuts in, eyes thunderous and filled with warning. “We either fight together or not at all. We are one company, we fight for and protect each other. No one is left behind or made to protect everyone on their own.”

For a moment, both Bilbo and Salvius softened to the haunted and jaded King without a Kingdom. His words spoke of the man he truly was, of the ruler he would hopefully one day be and how he would lead his people to a golden age. Bilbo was quick to remember the cutting remarks and cold glances, his face twisting in a confused way. Salvius remained still, green eyes boring into Oakenshield as he came to see the dwarf in a new light. Perhaps, this one was worth something after all.

“I shall take to the air Oakenshield and relay the pack's position to you from there. They will not see me, of that I can assure you.” Salvius spoke up, wings already starting to stretch out, ready to catch the wind under them and take him high up into his home. Thorin looked shocked for only a moment, his features smoothing back into the brooding look he always seemed to wear, nodding in understanding just before Salvius took to the skies with a great gust of wind.

“How will he relay their position if he’s all the way up there?” Gloin questioned as they watched the dragon vanish from sight.

“Give him a minute. We’ve only just started experimenting with this.” Bilbo suddenly spoke up causing all eyes to turn towards him. The company watched, perplexed as the Hobbit stood there, eyes closed and brows furrowed in apparent concentration. For a few seconds nothing happened until suddenly, Bilbo gave a small shudder, a shaky breath leaving his lips as his eyes opened. But they weren’t his eyes anymore. Gone were the soft green pools of a hobbit’s eyes and in their place were the cat-like slits of a dragon’s, glowing bright emerald green. The company and even the two wizards stepped back in shock, only able to watch as Bilbo stared blankly ahead, his strange, frightening dragon eyes tracking something only he, or more precisely, Salvius could see.

“There are at least twenty Warg riders, coming in fast from the east. They’ll be on us within minutes.” Bilbo said, blinking twice before his eyes were his own once more, everyone around him breathing a silent sigh of relief. Within a matter of moments, Radagast had taken off in his rabbit-pulled sledge, leading the Warg’s and their riders away from the fleeing company, Bilbo occasionally muttering something as Salvius sent him updates on the chase. They raced across the plains, ducking behind rocks and constantly looking over their shoulders, changing direction in a second if Bilbo suddenly spoke up to do so. It was a deadly game of hide-and-seek mixed with tag with the loser forfeiting their life. Bilbo suddenly shouted, calling for them all to come to a halt, his eyes dragon green once more and wide with fear and anger.

“What is it, burglar?” Thorin hissed, his own heart racing.

“Salvius, he lost sight of the pack and Radagast. He flew through some clouds and lost them in those few seconds.” Bilbo explained as his eyes jerked back and forth, signalling Salvius’ desperate efforts to located the missing pack. “We can’t see them!”

Thorin opened his mouth to question the Hobbit further when suddenly, a low growl ripped through the air from above them. All went still and silent, Bilbo’s eyes returning to his own only they still glowed with power, his eyes now acting as Salvius’. From atop the rock formation they had taken shelter under, a Warg and its rider scanned the area, both sniffing the air and growling with anger. Thorin looked to Kili, signalling with his eyes to draw his bow and kill the scout before they were discovered. The young dwarf moved slow, notching an arrow swiftly but silently as he took a deep steadying breath to ground himself before swing round and upward, losing the arrow right into the Warg’s jaw. He missed his mark by a few centimetres allowing both Warg and Orc to call out in pain and warning, enough to signal the rest of the pack of their location.

“Run!” It was Gandalf who had shouted sending them once more into a mad dash across the plains, the howls and barks of the Warg’s quickly catching up with them. At some point, they lost Gandalf in the madness, the Orc’s surrounding them on all sides as they all closed ranks.

“Where is that blasted Wizard!” Bofur shouted angrily.

“He’s abandoned us!” Oin added in.

Bilbo snarled, bow held tightly in his hands as he shot arrow after arrow into the approaching pack. It wouldn’t be enough, they were quickly growing closer and he didn’t have enough arrows for all of them. It would seem he’d be forced to use his new sword after all.

“This way you fools!” Bilbo swung around, green eyes finding Gandalf who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere behind some rocks. They ran, dwarves nearly shoving each other down into the hidden entrance to the tunnel in their haste to get to safety. Bilbo pushed himself, desperate and fearful as he began to hear the loud breathing of a Warg coming up behind him. He saw Fili and Kili by the entrance with their Uncle, their eyes wide with terror, Kili out of arrows and unable to help him. They screamed out as one when Bilbo stumbled, hands scraping across grass, earth and stone, opening the skin as blood rushed to the surface. He twisted onto his back, staring up into the jaws of death, scream stuck in his throat as he watched his end lung towards him.

A bloodthirsty shriek filled the air as Salvius dropped from the sky onto the Warg and its rider, crushing the animal while biting down onto his neck with vigour, ripping them both to shreds. Bilbo sighed in relief as he jumped up from the ground, swinging himself up onto Salvius’ back as the dragon roared angrily at the remaining Warg’s and Orc’s. Bilbo turned back to the entrance, spotting Thorin, Fili and Kili still standing there waiting for him and he shook his head.

“Go! We’ll be fine. We’ll find you!” He called before leaning forward, urging Salvius into the air. He briefly glimpsed the dwarves doing as he said and retreating back underground before he pulled on the saddle, pulling Salvius into a dive towards the circling pack that was shouting and howling to each other in panic. Both hobbit and dragon pulled up from the dive at the last second, Salvius catching a Warg in his talons as he did so, carrying it up high into the air before dropping it without mercy. He called out again, ear-splitting in his rage at these creatures for daring to attack what was his. They dived a second time, both set on killing those that had attacked them when suddenly, a spear flew up from the ground from one of the riders, lodging itself in Salvius’ shoulder and causing the dragon to scream in pain, spiralling out of control.

“ _Vel-ith!”_ Bilbo cried out, pressing himself as flat against Salvius’ back as he could, eyes screwing shut as the ground rushed up to meet them. The impact was hard, loud and violent, Salvius skidding across the ground and leaving a large gouge in the earth as he went. He kept his wings tucked close to prevent a break, twisting so he could grab Bilbo in his front fore-limbs and hold him close to his chest to protect the hobbit as much as possible.

When they came to a stop both were shaken, bruised and bleeding from a few scraps but they werent as badly injured as they could have been. Salvius pushed himself onto his legs with a pained growl, the spear digging itself deeper into his shoulder as he did so.

“ _Vel-eirri_?” He spoke softly, head leaning down to peer at his dear heart who was also slowly getting to his feet.

“I’m fine.” Bilbo soothed, eyes worried and fearful as they gazed at the dragon’s wounded shoulder. “You took the worst of it after all.”

“For you _Vel-eirri_ , always.” Salvius breathed, pressing his snout into Bilbo’s chest. They both glared at the approaching Orc pack, Salvius baring his teeth while Bilbo pulled out his Elvish blade in one hand and held the retracted hilt of _Dokthra Rakares,_ both ready to fight till the end. But before they could rain fire and blood onto the pack a horn sounded as a patrol of Elves on horseback came charging in, cutting the Orc’s to pieces in the blink of an eye. It allowed Bilbo time to relax and get a better look at Salvius’ wound, frowning at the blood that was still flowing from the wound.

“This will hurt _Laeis-vel.”_ He warned before ripping the spear free, wincing at the pain filled cry Salvius released as he did so. The dragon reared up, head shaking as he fought against the hot pain racing from his right shoulder. With slow gentle movements, Bilbo reached up to pet at the scales on Salvius’ neck, a soft crooning noise that had no real Westron translation other than a way to comfort a hurt or frightened family. “Shhh, _solves vel-ith.”_

They pressed as close to each other as they could, seeking comfort through touch, sounds, smell and sight. It had been their first real fight together as one unit and they had nearly lost, both still too new to the ways of war, Salvius’ still too young to have proper armour to protect him from mortal weapons. The incident had frightened them both, fearing they would lose the other in the panic of the battle. They needed to know the other was okay, that they weren’t in danger of dying and leaving the other to linger behind.

The sound of horses drawing closer breaks them from their trance, Salvius hissing in warning while curling his tail in front of Bilbo, narrowed eyes tracking the elves as they slowly approached. The one at the front of the small party was a face that seemed familiar to Bilbo in a way that he’d been told of this Elf’s features, been told stories of his generosity and kindness and had been told of his personality and demeanour. It was a distant memory, one that brought up faint memories of a sweet gentle voice that soothed his fears and worries. _Mother_ echoed within his soul, accompanied by sadness and grief. Salvius hummed, soft deep, comfort, love and understanding. Again, they were sounds that didn’t really have a Westron translation, just a way to express the feelings they brought about.

“Peace young dragon, we mean your rider no harm.” The elf spoke up, dismounting his horse so he wasn’t as imposing in his hight. The action had both Salvius and Bilbo relaxing slightly, their respect for him growing with every second.

Salvius straightened his neck, eyes gazing deep into the Elf’s own, piercing him. “We thank you for your assistance. Without your intervention then my dear heart and I may not be standing here right now.”

“It is a pleasure and an honour to be of service to you.” The elf bowed. “It has been many years since I have stood before a _Dokthlaris_ and his bonded.”

Bilbo blinked, ears perking up at the perfect pronunciation of the word. “You know what I am?”

“Yes, I was good friends with the dragons and their riders in the days of old.”

Salvius rumbled, head lowering to be on eye level with the Elf. “You seem to know us but we don’t know you.”

“My apologies.” The elf muttered with a gentle smile. “I am Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. And while I may know of you, I do not know your names.”

“Bilbo and this is Salvius.”

“Safety,” Elrond smiled, nodding in approval. He straightened suddenly, turning to his men to speak in Sindarin. When he turned back to Bilbo and Salvius he was moving to mount his horse. “Your dwarven friends have arrived in Rivendell so if you would follow us we can escort you both back to them.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Bilbo bowed as that seemed to be the polite thing to do in such a situation before moving to mount Salvius, setting easily into the saddle. The elves began to make their way back to their home, Salvius walking along beside them, towering over the horses. Bilbo watched the elves, not really believing that he’d made it all the way to Rivendell. Neither he nor Salvius had ever thought they would leave the Shire much less meet Elves! He looked up at his heart-soul-brother who was watching the elves with his large intelligent green eyes, taking in things even Bilbo couldn’t see with his Hobbit eyes.

“What do you make of them?”

“The _Selita?_ Honourable.” Salvius rumbled, scales warm to the touch under Bilbo’s hands.

 _“Av th swethnar-rakares mika.”_ Bilbo breathed softly, eyes lifting up to gaze at the clear open sky where the stars would shine at night. Dragons had no words for stars and therefore had no word for how Elves called themselves. They called themselves ‘People of the stars’ and so dragons called them _sky-fire child_.

 _“Lal th Dokthlaris, Vel laeis-eirri. Selita th nith.”_ Salvius had to be smiling, Bilbo could hear it in his voice as he spoke. His words lightened his heart, filled it with warmth and fire.

 _“Vel-ith.”_ He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead into Salvius’ neck, sinking into the warmth and love the other had for him. They ride the rest of the way in silence, no words needed between them to express the love they have for each other. When they reach Rivendell, both bask in the beauty of the place, smiling in amusement when they spot their dwarves crowding around in a circle, weapons drawn and ready for a fight that leaves them the instant Salvius comes rushing into the scene.

“Bilbo! Salvius!” It’s Fili and Kili that come rushing forward, the ones to yell the pairs name. Bilbo smiles, swinging down from Salvius’ back to allow the brothers to embrace him. The force is enough to drive the air from his lungs but he doesn’t snap at them and Salvius doesn’t growl at them for it. Instead, the dragon lowers his head to press his snout into their hair, breathing soft warm gusts of air over them in a comforting way.

“We were so worried about you Master Boggins!” Kili explained once they broke the hug. “Worried we lose our burglar.”

“I’m full of surprises Kili, you won’t get rid of me so easily.” Bilbo teased right back, laughing as Fili ruffled his golden locks.

“You're wounded.” Thorin is suddenly before them, dark blue eyes gazing at the still oozing wound on Salvius’ shoulder, navy blue scales stained crimson with blood. Salvius leaned down, eye to eye with the King Under the Mountain.

“It will heal, as all wounds do.”

Thorin stared long and hard at the dragon before nodding, turning away to face the elves and Gandalf who are now in deep conversation, eyes filled with anger and suspicion. The interaction was fascinating for Bilbo who hadn’t thought his beloved heart-brother would act so mild-mannered to the dwarf who had insulted them when they first met. “You're not angry anymore with him?”

Salvius hummed, deep and low, eyes calculating. “No, still annoyed yes, but not angry. He is proving himself, slowly. I like his nephews, he will take time.”

“If you say so,” Bilbo said doubtfully. So far, the company leader had shown him nothing but contempt and unlike his dragon soul, he wasn’t as forgiving. If Thorin was to win him over, he’d need to prove himself in Bilbo’s eyes and make a grand gesture indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon Language:
> 
> Dokthlaris = dragon kin  
> Ravna’s = Orc's  
> Vel-ith = my soul  
> Vel-eirri = my heart  
> Dokthra Rakares = dragon fire  
> Laeis-vel = brother mine  
> solves = peace  
> Selita = elves  
> Av th swethnar-rakares mika = They are sky-fire child  
> Lal th Dokthlaris, Vel laeis-eirri. Selita th nith = You are dragon-kin, my heart-brother. Elves are nothing


	9. A madness runs through him

It’s agreed that they will spend a week in Rivendell to recover and re-stock on supplies. It gives Salvius and Bilbo and chance to heal from their wounds as well as time to explore the beautiful home of the Elves. Bilbo marvels at how everything seems to glow and shine with life and something else, something that whispers _stardust_ in his ear. The trees and plants that grow are vibrant and healthy, enough to make any respectable Hobbit envious. There is also great comfort in being able to sleep in an actual bed, to wrap one’s self in blankets and sleep safely in their embrace. But, perhaps the thing Bilbo is most thankful for is the chance to have a proper bath.

The dwarves all rush into the warm steaming bathroom like an army, yelling and shouting as they splash and dunk one another in their merrymaking. Bilbo is sedated, sitting at the edge, feet moving slowly through the water where he sits waist-deep. The water is warm against his skin, not in the comforting way Salvius’ scales are, but in a familiar way that reminds him of home. They push at his mind, old thoughts of gentle hands and softer words that held so much love. Bilbo felt his heartache for those times lost, but at the same time, he smiled fondly as he thought of his parents. He’d grown much since that terrible day, had mourned and worked through his pain and anger till he was able to think back on his parents with sadness but love, longing but happiness.

“Bilbo!” Green eyes blinked the memories away, turning to gaze at Kili as the young dwarf waded through the water towards the Hobbit with a wide smile on his face.

“Kili.” Bilbo greeted his friend, body relaxing in the young dwarf’s presence, though he watched him warily as well, knowing of the boy’s love for pranks. But there was no mischief to be found in his eyes, only happiness and warmth that was mirrored by his older brother. “What can I do for you both?”

“We came to wash your hair because it looks a right mess,” Kili spoke up loudly causing all the other dwarves to grow tense, eyes snapping to the Prince’s who just smiled innocently. Bilbo glanced between them all, guarded and hesitant. Instead of addressing the obvious tension in the room that was most likely driven from a cultural issue, Bilbo turned a mock glare on the brother’s, huffing through his nose.

“Well excuse me for being beneath the troll I stabbed and thus getting coated in blood only to be chased across the countryside by a pack of Orcs.” Bilbo snarked drawing a bark of Laughter from Bofur and Dwalin while Kili and Fili just beamed happily at him. His words seemed to have done the trick though, the rest of the company relaxing once more into the warm water as Fili seats himself behind the hobbit, fingers gently rubbing the soap into the stiff golden locks of hair. It’s a peaceful moment, the soothing feeling of Fili’s fingers massaging into his scalp lulling Bilbo into a light daze so he almost misses it when the Prince starts to talk.

“Hair is very important to Dwarves. The care and upkeep of it is also something very symbolic depending on what is done and how it is approached.” Fili muttered softly, kneading his fingers into the parts of Bilbo’s hair where troll blood had hardened. The hobbit hummed softly, to show he was listening, glancing to the side where Kili sat, gently pouring water over his head to rinse the soap out before his brother would get to work again, determined to remove all the filth from their friend's hair. “This is why the company grew very uneasy when Kili and I said we were going to wash your hair.”

“I haven’t caused offence, have I?” Bilbo spoke up worriedly, guilt and slight panic curling hard and fast within his chest.

“Not at all Master Boggins,” Kili assured him, hand reaching out to press reassuringly against the soft skin of the hobbit’s shoulder. “They were simply waiting to see if it was an attempt at courtship.”

Here, Bilbo spluttered, turning wide slightly horrified eyes onto the brother’s who were laughing quite happily at his panic. “Fear not Bilbo, you are not engaged to either of us.” Kili giggled to a red-faced Bilbo who was quick to swat the dark-haired youth around the head.

“Do that again and I’ll set Salvius on you.” Bilbo hissed though there was no real heat to his words. The brother’s know this for they only smile at the little hobbit. Bilbo slowly settled once more, allowing Fili to continue working out the blood and dirt from his hair. “What are we doing then if we aren’t courting?”

Here, it is Fili who answers, quick to cut his brother off before he can cause more mischief. “We are engaging in an activity normally reserved for family. I guess you could say it's our way of adopting you.”

Bilbo felt his back stiffen, felt his heart race with something that spoke of fear, anxiety, hope, longing and deep-rooted sadness. In the corner of his mind that was constantly shifting with thoughts and feelings that weren’t entirely his own, he felt Salvius rise, reacting to his spike of emotion. The dragon hummed questioning, _love, love you love, what, sad? Hurt, you hurt they hurt you? My heart-love protect._ It was the oldest form of communication in the world, using thoughts, feelings and will to project what was needed to be said. Bilbo felt this from his heart-beloved and felt grounded by the strong presence in his mind.

_Safe, no hurt, confused they offering kin, safe, love, scared, longing heart-mother, you love, heart-brother, no hurt, help. Kin, they, you what?_

He felt Salvius settle, no longer on the defensive. Distantly, Bilbo knew the dwarf brothers were waiting tersely for his response to their offer but he just needed a little advice from Salvius, who knew him better than anyone. He needed guidance for this decision. And then he felt Salvius close in around his mind, a mental form of a hug, safe and assuring. _I like yes. Kin them, they good, safe, help you, safe good kin._

Bilbo felt something that had been wound up tight inside his chest loosen, the fear that Salvius would feel replaced fading into the background as instead, Bilbo is filled with the dragon’s own love towards the two brothers who have proven themselves worthy in his eyes.

“Pretty sure you’ve just been adopted by a very overprotective dragon.” Bilbo finally speaks up, aware of all the ears listening in on the conversation.

“Really? I’ve always wanted a fire breathing brother!” Kili chatters excitedly only to have Fili give a mock gasp of horror.

“Am I not good enough?”

“Are you kidding? I’d trade you for a dragon any day of the week.” Kili and Fili are both laughing and Bilbo can feel Salvius’ amusement bleeding through. It’s enough to have the hobbit in stitches himself, trying to remember when he’d laughed so hard with someone other than Salvius. He shrieks when Kili grabs him by the shoulders, dunking his newfound adopted sibling under the water and thus starting an all-out war. Before long, the rest of the dwarves baring Thorin, Balin and Dwalin are taking part in the battle. It’s a war that Bilbo is quick to win when a loud triumphant roar sounds through the bath-house as Salvius comes bounding in, launching himself into the warm water and sending large waves in all directions.

“Cheater!” Fili, Kili and Ori cry from where they have washed up on the floor beside the large bath. Bilbo sniggers from where he sits nestled between Salvius’ powerful wings.

“You wished to start a war with my heart-brother than you should expect his other half to come to his aid.” Is all Salvius has to say.

It’s only at dinner that evening that either of them notices the little silver bead that has been braided into Bilbo’s golden locks along the left side of his head, just above his pointed ear. Salvius sniffed at the new addition, eyes curious and soft. Bilbo fingered the little bead, a small fond smile working its way onto his face.

“You are happy.” Salvius rumbled, curled around his brother and heart while the dwarves slept a few feet away. “These _Noslethven_ , they have been good for you.”

Bilbo turned, leaning back so he was pressed flush against his companion's chest, warm scales heating his clothes and warding off the night chill. “In what way?”

Here, the dragon paused, thinking through his words. “You are _Dokthlaris_ , but you are also Hobbit, like them.” Here, Salvius jerked his head towards the sleeping dwarves. “Makes you no less my heart brother, but I lack in areas that you still need. They fill in those places I cannot.”

Bilbo blinked in surprise, his heart and soul filled with awe and….unease. For so long, it had only ever been him and Salvius. He wanted so desperately to allow the dwarves into his life, but he didn’t want to make Salvius feel like he was being replaced. As if hearing his thoughts, a scaley snout pressed into his neck, breathing soothing hot air over soft tan skin. “They could never take my place in your heart dear one. We are one, a single heart and soul in two bodies. They could become family, but you and I will always be so much more.”

They curled tight around and against each other, skin and scale, hearts beating as one. Bilbo traced patterns on those navy blue scales, thoughts absent and drifting. “What about the grumpy Mountain King?”

“The King without a kingdom? He needs time, to both find himself and to prove himself in your eyes for I know you have yet to forgive for the way he has treated you and me.”

“But you don’t seem to mind him all that much anymore.”

“No, I don’t. He longs for his stone kingdom as we long for the sky. I can see he hurts every day, you just need to learn to see that.”

Bilbo huffed, turning deeper into his friend's chest. Salvius chuckled fondly at the Hobbits behaviour, nuzzling into the golden locks. “And he does still need to make up for his actions. He is acting like a _Vaka_ after all.” That pulled a snort from Bilbo, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Just a little.”

They laid in peaceful silence for a long while, watching as the dwarves all slowly begin to drift off to sleep around them, all but one. Bilbo watched with narrowed eyes as Thorin stood, being mindful to not make a sound as he slipped away from the little area of Rivendale that they had been given to call their own. This King who had come into his home, who had so disrespectfully treated both him and his heart, who had continued to gaze at him with mistrust and loathing. Bilbo curled his upper lip in anger, rising from his place between Salvius’ front legs and creeping after the dwarf, his dragon half watching him go with amused green eyes.

Gandalf had been right when he’d mentioned Hobbit’s ability to be extremely light on their feet, able to pass unseen if they wanted too. Bilbo though, he had the added bonus of being bonded with a dragon, creatures of wonder and magic. He could easily slip a steaming pie from a window sill with the owner being none the wiser for a food half an hour, could lift a money pouch right from someone’s back pocket if he so chose too. Now, he put those skills to the test, following after Thorin a good few paces behind. However, it seemed the dwarven King was also good at going unseen and leaving no trace of his coming and goings. He had turned the corner ahead of Bilbo, being out of sight for only a moment but that was all it took for the Hobbit to lose sight of him. Said Hobbit huffed, dismayed at his little hunt being ruined.

With every intention of heading back to the rooms the Elves had given them, Bilbo pulled up short when he noticed Gandalf and Lord Elrond walking together further down the path, both deep in conversation with each other. Green eyes narrowed with suspicion, wondering what the _Livasthen_ wanted to speak about to their host away from dwarven ears. It certainly spoke of actions that wanted to remain unknown, so naturally, Bilbo crept closer to listen in.

“Of course I was going to tell you. I was merely waiting for the right moment. And surely you can trust that I know what I’m doing?” That was Gandalf, who sounded mildly put out and flustered much to Bilbo’s amusement and curiosity.

“Do you?” Came Elrond’s clipped reply, “That dragon has slept for 60 years. What should happen if you plan should fail? If you wake that beast – ”

“But what if we succeed?” Gandalf cut across the Elven Lord. Bilbo peered down on the pair from his vantage point on a balcony, watching as they walked slowly along the white gleaming path. “If the dwarves take back the mountain our defence in the East will be strengthened.”

“It is a dangerous move Gandalf.” Elrond cautioned.

“It is also dangerous to do nothing!” Here Gandalf seemed to be losing some of his patients. “Oh co- the Throne of Erebor is Thorin’s Birthright. What is it you fear?”

A sneer worked its way onto Bilbo’s face, lips pulling back in a mockery of a dragon’s snarl for he knew what it was the Elf Lord feared, what the whole world feared. Dragon fire was one of the most destructive forces the world had ever seen and near enough nothing could stop it. If it came down to a one on one fight between Smaug and Salvius, Bilbo knew the famed Red Beast would come out on top, his fire and scales a far greater match for the dragon pair. However, what Elrond said next drew Bilbo up short.

“Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His Grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear that Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall? Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to re-draw the map of Middle Earth. And you forget yourself if you think that by bringing alone a dragon who is merely more than a Hatchling will help defeat Smaug.”

Bilbo drew back at the insult against his heart and soul. He and Salvius were not Hatchlings! They were _Doktheirri_! Rulers of the sky! Though, he could see the logic behind Lord Elrond’s words. Salvius could not yet breath fire, his scales were still hardening. And after the battle against the Warg pack, both knew they were hardly ready for combat just yet, too inexperienced as they were.

“With or without our help, these dwarves will march on the mountain. They're determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he’s answerable to anyone. And you would do well not to underestimate Bilbo and Salvius, they are far stronger than even they know of.” Gandalf huffed as they both vanished from sight around the corner, Bilbo’s eyes widening at the small compliment. He stared after the pair for a moment when his sharp hearing picked up the sound of shuffling feet from behind him. Acting on instinct alone, Bilbo bent his knees and jumped, flipping over backwards while pulling a small dagger from a hidden sheath on his left forearm, pulling up to rest against the person’s neck who had snuck up behind him. It took the Hobbit a moment to realize just who he held at knifepoint.

“You have good reflexes,” Thorin muttered, eyeing Bilbo warily from the corner of his eye. The Hobbit scowled, pulling the dagger away to return it to its sheath.

“One would think to know better than to sneak up on a _Dokthlaris_.” He snipped, watching as Thorin’s lips seemed to almost twitch into a smile before the ever-present scowl settled over his face once more. “We leave in a few hours, make sure your beast is ready to go.” Is all he said before stomping off back to the rest of the company, Bilbo huffing angrily as he went.

It was only once he was back with the company, curled up between Salvius’ legs against the dragon’s warm chest that he realized that Thorin had probably heard the secret conversation between Gandalf and Lord Elrond as well. He wondered how the King without a Kingdom must have felt, hearing such words spoken about him and his kin. Bilbo knew he himself wouldn’t have felt very good, so he decided to excuse the other’s rude behaviour, just this once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noslethven = Dwarf  
> Dokthlaris = Dragon Kin  
> Vaka = idiot/stupid  
> Livasthen = Wizard  
> Doktheirri = Dragon heart


End file.
